


A Thief's Overture

by Lady_Redhaired



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brothers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 52,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Redhaired/pseuds/Lady_Redhaired
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Overture: The instrumental introduction to an opera and the only portion of it where singing voices are not involved.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. At a Loss for Words

**Author's Note:**

> Overture: The instrumental introduction to an opera and the only portion of it where singing voices are not involved.

It was a cold autumn night in Boston. The fallen leaves, softened by the wet pavement, never produced a crunch under Sam’s feet. It had been raining up until he’d reached the orphanage, and luckily now the clouds were retreating in the sky.

He ruffled his hair, making some of the raindrops caught in it splash into the cold air, and he gripped tight at the iron gate that was the entrance to the place. He climbed and jumped over it with ease, his eyes finding the window that he knew belonged to Nathan’s room.

Making his way there proved effortless enough. Running on rooftops was slowly becoming second nature to him. When he finally reached the window, which was open as per usual, he took a cautious peek into the room before deciding to jump inside to make sure that none off the kids that shared the bedroom with his brother were awake.

He was surprised to find the beds completely empty as he paced through the place, a frown slowly appearing on his face when he noticed Nathan was also absent. That was unusual.

A sudden sound made him jolt and take a step back for a second, his eyes scanning the dark room and finally finding a figure in front of him. The bedroom was lacking any source of light except for the moonlight coming from the open window, but even if this was the case, he was surprised he hadn’t spotted her earlier.

It was a girl. She appeared to be around his age, definitely older than his brother. She was crouching in front of an open suitcase and seemed to have just noticed him as well, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Hi.” Sam greeted, keeping his voice down. He raised both hands slowly at waist height in an appeasing yet awkward gesture. “Please don’t scream.”

But the girl wasn’t making a sound, apparently opting for standing there staring at him with unease. Sam’s lips turned into a thin line as he kept his distance in tension, lest he startles the girl even more. They stayed like this for a quiet moment, until he decided he probably needed to explain himself. Fast.

“Listen, I’m not a burglar or anything.” He blurted out, the words coming out as a faint laugh as he pointed at his own chest. “I’m just looking for my brother, I only came to see him… Where’s everyone?” The young man’s eyes gazed at the empty beds once more before locking back on the girl’s silhouette.

But once again, his words were met by silence, with her not making any signs of acknowledging the sounds coming out from his mouth. Sam noticed the girl didn’t look scared, nor did she look surprised anymore, she was simply staring at him with some form of curiosity. And suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps she wasn’t answering because she could not hear him in the first place. What if she was deaf?

“Okay.” He muttered to himself, approaching her very slowly in the gloom of the room. As soon as he reached her position, standing right in front of the girl, he made sure to draw a friendly and genuine smile to let her know he truly meant no harm. And somehow her expression seemed to soften a little. “Let’s try this…”  With these words, Sam gently picked up her hand, his eyebrows raising with the motion as if asking for permission. She didn’t complain. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

And it was only then that he got a response, the girl’s fingers now curling around his hand and squeezing as he’d requested. He drew a half smile and nodded proudly.

“Yeah, good! Now we’re getting somewhere.” So she wasn’t deaf. Perhaps she was mute? No matter. He’d find his way around it. But he didn’t enjoy the idea of questioning her out of the blue. Considering he was a stranger that had just crawled through the window, it all seemed a bit too upfront. So he’d make sure she was comfortable with ‘talking’ to him first.

“Sorry if I scared you, I didn’t notice the room wasn’t empty.” Apologizing seemed fair in this case, since he was the one who was not meant to be there. The girl returned his smile now with a soft one of her own, and he noticed the dimples that formed on her cheeks when she did so. Now that he’d managed to catch a better glimpse of her, he had to admit she was a pretty little thing, albeit quite shorter than him.

He then squinted slightly, as if measuring her with a look. “Are you my age? Eighteen.” She shook her head at his question and he nodded. “Alright, squeeze for yes, head shake for no. I can work with this.” He cleared his throat and switched his body weight from one foot to another, ready to try again. “Seventeen?” And this time he felt the grip on his hand tightening.

“Oh so just a year difference. You must be new here right? I don’t remember you from my time in this place.” Before she could answer, he let out an apologetic laugh. “I haven’t even told you my name yet have I? And yet here I am holding your hand.” Sam joked, earning himself a wider smile. And he was pleased to find she had not tried to retrieve her hand just yet.

“Sam Morgan.” He finally introduced himself, placing his free hand flat on his chest. Since he knew he wouldn’t get a name from her, he carried on. “Like I said I was actually looking for my little brother, Nathan. Do you know him?”

Then, a squeeze.

“Great, that’s amazing. Listen…” He now leaned a bit closer, his green eyes plunging deep into the girl’s. If she couldn’t talk, he had to make every effort to read her expressions. “I’d really like to talk to him but I’m not really allowed in here…” Making another pause, Sam gnawed on his lower lip with a slightly guilty look on his face. “Could you do me a favor? Could you go look for him and, if you find him, just bring him here?”

The girl didn’t answer, but her lips were still curled up on the faintest of smiles. She slowly let go of Sam’s hand as she backed away from him to walk towards the bedroom door, turning the handle to open it and disappear behind it.

He fumbled with his own hands for a second, doubtful. Hopefully that meant she would bring Nathan back. Or perhaps she simply wasn’t interested in helping him. In any case, he figured he could just wait by the window for a while and find out. That way if any of the nuns happened to come snooping around, he could just quickly jump out and make his escape.

So he backtracked on his own steps to sit on the ledge of the window, which was still slightly wet from the previous rain, and waited patiently.

 

It took shorter than expected for his brother to show up followed by the silent girl. At first, when the door to the bedroom opened, Sam promptly moved as if to jump out of the window, but soon stopped short when he saw Nathan’s head peeking in.

“Hey little brother.” Sam greeted the younger boy with a hint of glee in his voice, getting back inside the room to go wrap his arms around his brother, who was already sprinting towards him to hug him tight.

“Hey Sam!”  There was real excitement behind the boy’s blue eyes. It had been more than a week since the last time Sam had swung by the orphanage to visit him.

Sam pried his eyes away from Nathan for a second and looked back at the girl who was now sitting on her bed and had picked up a book, seemingly getting ready to read it. She returned his gaze as soon as she felt his stare on her. There was something in her eyes that hinted towards a very intelligent mind behind them, and he felt somewhat curious about it.

“Thank you.” He let out, slowly guiding his brother towards the window now, even if his eyes never left hers as he walked. “See you around.”

She smiled once more, a faint wave being her goodbye for him. And he waved back with a smile plastered on his face that even he felt came out a bit goofy.

Nathan jumped out of the window and onto the tiled rooftop right below it, following his older brother. They always sat there to talk whenever Sam came around, that way if any of the nuns came into the bedroom at night to check on the kids, they could stay out of sight.

“You been good these past two weeks?” Sam asked. The night was cold, and the rooftop was damp beneath them, but they both looked happy nonetheless now that they got to spend some time together.

“I didn’t get into any fights, if that’s what you mean.” Nathan fumbled with the hem of his pajama shirt. “I might have started a food fight last Thursday, though…”

Sam let out an amused sound, resting his arms on his knees, his legs now flexed.

“If you don’t start eating the food instead of throwing it at people’s faces you’re gonna stay this skinny forever.” He joked, poking at his little brother’s arm.

“The food is crap anyway, and you know it.” Shrugging, Nathan laughed along with his brother. There was a brief silence, both of them gazing up at the starry night sky now that the clouds were gone.

“So this girl…” Sam began to say, pointing briefly at the window. “She’s new, right? I don’t remember seeing her around before.”

The younger boy nodded at the statement, his hands now on the wet and moldy roof as he leaned back. “Yeah, she arrived last week. Her name is Y/N…I think.” His brow furrowed with uncertainty towards the end of the sentence.

“You think?” A half smile curled Sam’s lips as he arched a single eyebrow.

“I’ve only heard it a couple of times. She’s not mentioned much, because she doesn’t talk.”

“I’ve noticed.” Biting on his lower lip with curiosity, Sam folded his arms now, eyes fixed on his sibling. He grew so fast that even after two mere weeks he could still spot some differences. “Do you know why?”

“Well…” Squinting, Nathan searched his mind looking for the exact words the nuns had told him about the new girl. “Mother Tilly said she was in a car crash. Both her mom and dad died there, so she was brought here. Apparently she was already like this when the paramedics found her, so they think it’s…what was it?” His eyes rolled slowly, looking for the right term. “Post-traumatic silence, or something like that.”

“Oh shit…” Sam breathed out, speechless to say the least. His eyes were slightly wide with surprise. “Poor bird.”

“She’s really nice though. On Tuesday James stole my pudding, so she gave me hers.” The boy Smiled up at his brother. “I’ve seen her reading these really thick, complex books as well, kinda like the ones you read. So I think she’s actually really clever.”

Nodding along with a pensive pout, Sam spoke out.

“Well, she might be. Not speaking wouldn’t change that.”

He noticed the sun was starting to peak through the horizon, casting the shadows of every building against the pavement.

“It’s a bit weird though. You never know what she might be thinking about.” Nathan’s words were followed by a confused yet somewhat amused sound.

“You could, Nathan. If you paid attention.” Reaching out, he ruffled Nathan’s hair and followed a wink with a cheeky smile. “Or maybe I’m just that good with the ladies.”

“Oh screw you!” The boy complained, swatting his brother’s hand away, who faked a shocked expression and made a gasping sound.

“Language young man!” Sam jokingly scolded him, quickly getting on his feet and picking Nathan up to carry him over his shoulder. “Now you go to bed and say fifteen hail Mary’s.”

The younger boy was wriggling, complaints leaving his lips between laughs and legs kicking the air. Once they were back at the window, Sam placed Nathan on the ledge, still smiling at him and a hint of brotherly love clear in his eyes when he patted the kid’s shoulder.

“I know I’ve come around a bit late tonight but I’ll swing by again next week, okay?” He promised, and Nathan nodded in acceptance. His legs were swinging from the window and Sam saw him swaying them back and forth as he waved him goodbye.

“Alright. See you then Sam.”

“See you around little brother.” Sam waved back, his silhouette slowly disappearing in the dark of the night.  

 

***

 

Three days passed until Sam was finally able to make some time for a trip back to the orphanage again. He’d been pretty busy with a job, to the point of not having a free night until then. He wasn’t in a particularly good mood either, given that said job turned out to be a bit more complicated than expected, but still quite poorly paid. By the end of it, even if it only took him three days worth of effort, he still felt like his time had not been valued properly.

He made his way up the wall and onto the roof below the bedroom’s window, and as he walked over it he noticed how a couple of tiles gave in under his weight, albeit too late to react. His foot slipped when the tiles broke apart and he let out a curse through clenched teeth, quickly placing a hand on the roof as a support to try and keep himself from falling completely. But he found himself failing yet again when his palm slipped over the moldy rooftop as well. So he fell flat on his side and slid down a couple of feet before finally getting a grip that luckily avoided him sliding all the way down and dropping from what would’ve been an undoubtedly fatal height. He heard the sound of shattered ceramic as the tiles hit the ground below him.

“Fuck me…” He breathed out, his expression twisting with pain as he reached to grab his side, feeling his Henley sweater now stained with the mold that had ended up smeared over the white fabric. “Spend my days climbing around dangerous places and now I’m gonna be offed by some mold.” Complaining and hurting as he was, he rolled onto his back to catch his breath for a second, eyes staring at the completely clear sky and pulse pounding slightly faster.

Sam was about to get back up, an annoyed groan leaving his throat, when he noticed someone was staring at him from the window. And for a second his heart stopped at the possibility of it being one of the nuns. He didn’t feel like running away from the police that night. But his concern soon disappeared when he recognized the silent silhouette. It was that girl, what was her name?

“Y/N?” He tried, and she tilted her head at him, her arms resting on the stone edge of the window. One didn’t need to hear her to understand the message her eyes were clearly sending. She was definitely wondering what on earth he was doing laying down on the rooftop in the middle of the night, covered in mud and mold. A faint laugh escaped Sam’s lips.

“The uhm- The roof thing…broke” He hurriedly stuttered an explanation, promptly getting back up on his feet and dusting his clothes off. He’d be more careful now as he approached the window.

She was smiling down at him, the kind of smile that could precede a laugh, but she was probably trying to be polite enough not to make fun of his demise. There was a moment of silence as he just stared back at the girl, trying to preserve whatever drop of dignity he had left. Sam pointed at the bedroom casually, almost acting as if nothing happened.

“So, is my brother in there?”

She shook her head softly and he frowned, intrigued. He wasn’t used to interacting with someone who couldn’t say a word, but he remembered he had established some form of conversational code with this girl last time he saw her, so he figured that would still stand. Reaching out, he offered his hand once more and she seemed inclined to take it, her expression remaining neutral. She remembered too, then.

“Alright let’s play guess.” Sam laughed, holding her hand gently. “Field trip?” Y/N shook her head with an obvious look. “Yeah what am I saying, they would’ve been back by now…” Letting out a pensive sound, his eyes stared at his left hand side, to then gaze back at her. “Is it movie night tonight?”

He felt her squeeze his hand and grinned with accomplishment. “Movie then…well that’s a shame.”

For all he wanted his brother to enjoy himself, knowing that he liked watching movies, Sam still wasn’t finding the prospect of going back to the motel and spending the whole night alone eating snacks and re-reading his books in silence exactly delightful. Having grown up with Nathan around him, he was still getting used to spending his days on his own. But as he stood there holding the girl’s hand, he found himself entertaining the idea of taking her out instead of his little brother. Truth be told there was something about her that had him intrigued, and that way he would at least have some company. Even if it was of the quiet kind.

“Hey, do you feel like going somewhere?” He asked in a surprisingly direct way. She must’ve been a bit taken aback because her brow furrowed and her look turned slightly dubious. “I mean-” Sam’s eyes widened faintly at her reaction, and the more she frowned the more he panicked. “-if you’re bored? I know you barely know me… But you know Nathan. Maybe you’re just not interested. Well.. I know this diner that is still open now. Do you like milkshakes? Maybe we could have a milkshake. I’d take you straight back, I promise. I’m not trying to be weird or anything I just have a night off and I thought-”

Sam stopped talking when she started chuckling, a little smile gracing his lips and then he sighed. “I swear I’m usually much better at this.” This comment prompted Y/N to nod unconvinced, her laugh still refusing to relent. The tone in her look seemed to change. She was amused. So he pursed his lips, the corners of his mouth still slightly curved up, and figured he’d try again.

“Can I buy you a milkshake?”

This time her grip on his hand increased for a second, and he nodded back at her. “Right. Come out, I’ll get you outta this place.”

Yet another thing he’d have to figure out as they went, how to sneak out with her. Usually, Nathan and him had no problem climbing down the walls of the massive church that was the orphanage, but he was going to take a wild guess and presume she could not do that.

Approaching the edge of the roof, he leaned forward to peer down at the far off ground and then placed his hands on his hips, contemplating the situation. He would always gnaw on his lower lip whenever he was thinking. He found that chewing on things relaxed him. One only needed to see the chewed off caps of every pen he owned to confirm this.

“There’s no other way, you’re gonna have to jump on my back.” Sam finally offered, checking to see if she was okay with the idea. She seemed a bit dubious, and who could blame her, she’d probably never done something even remotely similar in her life. He was aware that monkeying around the city was not the norm. “It’ll be alright.” He quickly reassured her, his eyes looking for hers so she could see he was being frank. “I’m not going to drop you, you just need to hold on tight.”

After taking into account the height of the building once more, she took a couple of unsure steps before finally closing in the distance that separated them, and Sam knelt down to make it easier for her to prep herself on his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her thighs around his hips, tapping on his chest twice to let him know she was ready. And so he stood up once more and took a long breath, bouncing lightly on his heels to prepare himself, his eyes fixed below. “Here we go.”

The first wall he had to climb down proved to be some of the worst few minutes of his life. She was light enough, but still, maintaining his grip with an extra weight he was not used to on his back was initially really hard and nerve wrecking. He moved excruciatingly slow, considering every drop, every distance. Making sure he wasn’t too rough on his movements, lest she lost her grip and fell. Or worse, if it happened to be him who lost his grip and then they would **both** fall. So he took it very slow, and it wasn’t until after they mustered a couple more walls that he started to feel a bit more comfortable with the situation. He started realizing she was actually strong enough not to let go unless he did something truly extreme, so that relieved a bit of tension. And after adjusting to the new amount of weight, it became almost fun.

Granted, his biceps were killing him by the time they climbed past the front gate and were finally in the streets, but he also felt somewhat accomplished of the feat.

“See? Nothing to it.” He joked, shaking his arms a couple of times by his sides to relieve the stinging pain in his muscles. Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head to let him know she was aware they could’ve died a couple of times and that whole thing had been anything but easy. But they made it, and they were out. And Sam was really craving that milkshake now.

 

It did not take them long to reach the diner, and Sam wasn’t surprised to find it was still open as he’d expected. He knew no other place that served milkshakes and pancakes and yet remained open until midnight. It was also run by a lady in her mid fifties that made the best waffles he’d ever had. It was the mix of these little things that made this tiny restaurant his favorite eating place in Boston.

As he pushed the door open for the girl to step inside first, the owner waved at him from behind the counter, and Sam returned a charming smile. The place was absolutely empty except for the two of them and the older woman at that time in the evening, so as soon as they picked a seat in one of the booths by the windows, they were presented with the menus.

“Evening, dear.” The lady cheerfully greeted them, audacious eyes glancing at the young boy now. “I see you’re in very good company tonight.” Sam let out a laugh that almost came out sheepish when she spoke. “I’ve never seen him bring a girl around until tonight. It’s usually just little Nathan and him here.”

“Yeah, this is Y/N.” Sam introduced, gesturing towards the girl sitting in front of him. “She’s a quiet one… still more charming than I am.” He couldn’t hold that last statement in, used as he was to putting his silver tongue to use in front of women, which caused the girl’s expression to turn somewhat bashful.

“Nice to meet you dear, I’m Lisa.”

A single nod evidenced that Y/N was listening, and the old lady’s greeting was then met with a wide smile and a gentle look from the girl’s eyes.

“Why you were right! She’s more charming than you are!” A melodic laugh emanated from Lisa this time, and Sam had to laugh along. He was good at acting nonchalant, even if he could feel a light blush creeping up on his cheeks. What a sweet way of ridiculing him that lady had. “What’s it gonna be this time, Sam?”

“I’ll be having a cookie milkshake. And…” He gazed at his friend, a finger pointing at the list of milkshakes now sitting on the table right in-between them, next to the hands they kept held together almost as a norm now for the sake of communication. But she wasn’t looking at the list of drinks, her eyes being fixed on him instead, bright and curious. “What? Cookie sounds good too?” Sam chuckled, raising an eyebrow. He felt her squeeze his hand immediately and his chuckling dragged for a bit longer. “Alright then. We’ll have two of them.”

“Oh good choice. You’re gonna love my chocolate chip cookie mix.”

Not needing to jot down their order, Lisa simply walked away to get to work with preparing their homemade milkshakes. This prompted a moment of heavy silence that surrounded them for a while, something Sam presumed he would have to get used to around her. She seemed entertained enough, however, gazing around the place. She was probably excited up to some degree to leave the orphanage, since the kids there don’t tend to go out much. He sure was the first few times he sneaked out on his own.

It was during this quiet moment that it occurred to Sam that he´d never seen this girl under the light, the bedroom where they’d met having been so dim lighted every time. And with this thought lingering in his mind, and his eyes lingering on her, he started noticing little things. There was a little bundle of freckles that speckled certain parts of her face, really faint and hard to notice unless one paid attention, gathered around the highest point of her temples and the tip of her nose. For some reason he wondered if he’d find any freckles on her shoulders, were he to look there. Since she was wearing a sweater, his curiosity would not be satiated any time soon.

He also noticed that her eyes now looked bigger and brighter, but the one thing he had not observed before was how long and pretty her eyelashes were. She’d bat them around often with curious demeanor, and it made his glance want to linger in her eyes for longer than advised. So he quickly shifted his stare, traveling down to her mouth. Her lips were a sweet shade of pink, and they had an alluringly delicate shape to them. Then he wondered if she’d ever kissed someone before. Her whole aura stroke him as being so unadulterated.

 _‘You’re staring.’_ A voice warned inside his head, making him clear his throat and shift on his seat slightly, prying his eyes away from her just in time for the girl not to catch him looking. Somehow now the warmth seeping from her hand onto his own skin was prompting the tip of his ears and his cheeks to turn a light shade of red, so he drummed his fingers on the table with fake nonchalance. He had to remind himself he only kept holding her hand so that she could easily call for his attention.

Thankfully, Lisa came back with their milkshakes on that precise moment, and he almost sighed in relief at the sight of her. Working on a smile when he thanked the lady, he pulled the drink closer to him with his free hand, dragging it across the table, and sucked in through the straw. The sweet and cold taste of the milkshake soon hit his tongue and spread throughout his mouth like a sugary wave.

“I hope you enjoy it.” Lisa smiled, and Sam swallowed to reply as she walked away once more

“You make the best milkshakes, sweet cheeks.” This immediately prompted a laugh from the older woman, who waved him off as she walked around the counter.

Sam felt Y/N´s hand shake slightly and noticed she was laughing along too, slurping from her own milkshake with a delighted expression on her face. “Yeah, sorry.” He jokingly apologized. “I might be sitting here with you, but her shakes found a path straight to my heart long ago.”

“Oh enough now, I could be your mother!” They heard Lisa giggle from the other side of the room.

Returning his eyes back to the girl, Sam took another swig from his drink, eyebrows raising as he took the time to swallow before speaking.

“You like it then?” A squeeze on his hand was quickly prompted by his question and he run his fingers through his hair to readjust it, satisfied. “She can also make them to take away on these cups with a lid. Maybe I could bring you another one next time I go visit the orphanage?” And again, a squeeze and a smile were the answer he got, and somehow he started feeling extremely comfortable. He wasn’t doing so bad, after all. It was easier to be around her that one might originally think, in fact. And even if she wasn’t talking, he never once felt like he was missing any information, and silences with her were never really awkward.

He could easily get used to this.

And so their one sided conversation went on for longer than expected, past the time where their milkshakes were finished and the moon was high in the sky. He’d make sure to ask plenty of questions that could be answered with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, since this was his only way of finding out stuff about her. Sometimes he’d have to guess, and she’d squeeze his hand and chuckle when he finally got it right. She wasn’t limited to yes or no, however, and she’d use some obvious gestures every once in a while. She also had a voice, even if she never talked, which meant she’d hum when unsure, laugh, or make surprised noises among other sounds. Sam started to find these little hints of her voice delightful.

The girl was surprisingly expressive, and he found it relatively easy to understand everything she meant to convey at any given time. And it was like this that he found out she loved to read history books, but that romance novels were her guilty pleasure. She could not bear with poorly written books, however. He’d offered to bring some of his own books for her to read the next time they saw each other, since reading was pretty much all he did during his time alone. He also learned that she had a soft spot for animals, enjoying their company since they don’t need speech to communicate. She’d always wanted a pet, but never got to have one. Apparently, Y/N also loved music, all kinds of it as long as it was pleasing to her ears. And that made him want to bring her back home and show the girl his CD collection.

But soon before they realized, the diner had to close its doors and Lisa had to ask them to leave for the night, albeit reluctantly.

They walked their way back through the deserted streets, hand in hand like it was now second nature, and Sam told her a bunch of stories from when he was still back at the orphanage. Most of them featured a younger Nathan who was really determined to be a famous magician. He didn’t enjoy talking about himself back at that time, since most people back there never liked him, specially the nuns. Sam was unsure whether she’d heard some of the stories that the ever wagging tongues must still tell about him, but if she hadn’t then he’d rather it stayed that way.

When they reached the front gate, Sam bent the knee once more so she could jump on his back, and they repeated the whole climbing routine they did to leave the place hours before, even if this time it was to sneak in and not out.

Once they’d reached the roof by her bedroom window, she let go of him and her feet landed gently on the rooftop right before Sam placed his hands on her waist to grab the girl firmly and help her up the window ledge. From up there, Y/N smiled down at him, her eyes glistening in a way that let him know she’d had fun, and she was grateful he took her out that night. Then a wave as a goodbye that he returned with a vocal one, pushing the word out with a faint smile that he realized might have looked slightly entranced.

He was watching her pull her legs up to the other side, and land silently inside, being careful not to wake anyone up, when he felt a sudden urge to run over and grab her hand one last time that he did not repress in time. And so she stopped short of making her way further into the bedroom, her arm stretched out as Sam gripped her wrist, half of his body still outside and his upper half now in the room, having stopped himself mid-way through getting inside.

She let out the faintest of chuckles, a single eyebrow arching on her face as she wondered what he was doing. And he decided to speak quickly before it started to look awkward.

“Can I see you again?” Sam asked, realizing too late he’d just blurted out whatever was going through his brain without considering if he was now sounding weird, or making a complete fool of himself.

But the girl was still smiling, which he decided to take as a good sign. She knew he did not mean simply showing up once more, to bring her that milkshake, or the books he promised, perhaps. He wanted permission to take her out again. If he asked, was that not a date? It certainly wouldn’t mirror that night’s situation, where she simply happened to be there out of sheer chance when he came to see his brother.

Great. He’d pulled off the lamest, most rushed way of asking a girl out on a date ever, and he never even noticed until now. He wasn’t thinking, really. He’d just felt this sudden need to make sure he could repeat the whole experience from that evening again, and the words had simply pushed their way out of his mouth. _‘Very smooth, Sam. Good job.’_ Mocked the voice inside his head. And he was starting to bite down on his lower lip and consider retracting himself when he saw her smile widen a bit, a hint of awareness towards the whole situation present in her eyes.

She started to pull away slowly, and his breath hitched unconsciously because he never felt her hand tighten around his own for a ‘yes’, and as much as he wanted to run away in embarrassment, he wanted an answer so much more. But just as she let go of his fingers one by one until she was grasping nothing more than the tip of his middle one, there she squeezed softly and followed the gesture with a light giggle, finally letting his hand drop and walking back into the darkness of the room and towards her bed in the far end of it.

And there she left him, half hanging from a window and smiling like an idiot, but smiling after all.

That night after making his way back to his motel room on his own, the sun rising once more as he entered the place, Sam cooked dinner for himself and slumped on the couch as per usual. But when trying to read his book, he would find himself getting distracted often, the words scattered on every page turning blurry when his eyes couldn’t focus and his mind wandered towards places where he could bring the girl next time. He gave up soon after, his head falling back against the arm of the couch as he let the book drop flat on his chest, still open, and he allowed his mind to have its way. This resulted in him not sleeping until long after, when he’d visited a dozen places with her in made up scenarios within his own head.

They were skipping stones and holding hands by the riverside during a warm summer night by the time he gave in to sleep


	2. Shortcut

The knife reflects the shine from the street lights, a silver gleam in the dark alleyway. Then a threat. He turns his pockets inside out. And the man makes a different demand. The girl gasps behind him, hands clutching around the necklace dangling from her neck. Knuckles white, hands pressed firmly against her chest. She has no voice, he must speak up for the both of them. They shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.

 

 

* * *

 

It was only after a week that Sam was finally able to return to the orphanage to pay Y/N and his little brother a visit. The first time he brought with him three cookie milkshakes from Lisa’s diner, which were a nightmare to bring up to that god forsaken rooftop without spilling their content all over the inside of his backpack. The three of them gathered together by the window late at night and drank their shakes while the brothers told the girl some stories, and talked about the winter fair that would come into town in a month or so.

The second time around, Sam brought the girl some books, as promised. He could only fit so many in his bag, but he made sure to lend her his favorite ones. That particular day she seemed to be having a bad headache, so she soon went to bed and was fast asleep. Sam then decided to take his brother out, just as a special occasion. He didn’t really like to make him sneak out often at his age, but the kid seemed desperate for some fresh air and he figured taking him out for dinner would keep his spirits up inside that horrible place he had to live in.

That night, Nathan had mentioned how a bunch of bibles had been mysteriously disappearing around the orphanage. Sometimes they would turn up completely torn and the nuns started to cry bloody murder about it being blasphemy. Sam had assured his little brother that the whole thing had nothing to do with Satan, and that Jonah Wilson must’ve been using them to roll his cigarettes with the thin pages in them. Again.

It wasn’t until the third time, and two weeks after, that Sam managed to scrap together enough money and courage to swing by and take Y/N out once more. And that time he arrived at the orphanage a lot earlier in the day than it was customary. At 7 pm he was already knocking on their window, and both the girl and the younger brother opened up with an expression that was not short of surprised all over their faces.

“Sam!” Nathan’s eyes widened immediately at the sight of him. “What are you doing here? The nuns are still up. Everyone is still up! If they see you around-”

“Hey don’t sweat it little brother.” Sam laughed it off, sitting on the window ledge. “I made sure to wait until everyone was out playing in the backyard. This room should be a nun-free zone for about half an hour.”

They both chuckled and Sam smiled wide, eyes traveling from Nathan to the girl and back. There was a brief pause and Sam pursed his lips, prompting the younger boy to immediately know there was something he wanted to request of him.

“So...I got a favor to ask you, Nathan.”

Bingo.

“Alright, what is it?” Rolling his eyes but with the trace of a smile still on his lips, Nathan agreed to help before even knowing what it was his brother needed.

“I wanna take her out today, and I don’t think we’ll be back for a long while.” Sam gestured towards Y/N and she tilted her head slightly to the right, eyebrows arching with curiosity. “But I know the nuns will come around soon to make sure everyone is in bed and sleeping.” 

“Yeah, there isn’t an excuse in the world that’s good enough. If she’s not here, you’ll both be in deep shit.” Nathan complained, his brow furrowing with concern.

Sam flicked his brother on the forehead and the kid let out a sound of complaint, hands going up to rub the spot where he’d been hit. 

“Language.” Sam earned a swat on his hand before he could retrieve it. “What I want you to do is to put a pillow under the blankets when we leave, make sure to cover it well and make it look like a person could be sleeping in her bed, you know? Just tell the nuns she hasn’t been feeling well and she’s been sleeping for a while when they come around.”

What a shit plan. Nathan folded his arms and was about to complain when his brother smiled at him and ruffled his hair before chuckling an “attaboy” and jumping out of the window, and onto the rooftop below. Y/N shared a look of circumstantial unease with Nathan, but eventually the boy unfolded his arms and gave her an encouraging smile.

“It’s okay, I’ll make something up. Just go. Trust me, there’s no point in trying to change his mind once something gets in his head.”

The girl returned a tender smile and gently squeezed his shoulder in an endearing gesture, prepping herself up on the window ledge afterwards, and swinging her legs to the other side. She didn’t even need to call for him beforehand, Sam was already reaching out to grab her by the waist and help her down by the time she looked down at him. Even if they’d only done this once before, they both knew the drill already, so Sam was climbing down the walls of the building soon enough, with the girl on his back as he did last time.

“Hey! Bring me back something cool!” Nathan requested in the last minute, the upper half of his body now popping out of the window as he waved them goodbye.

 

***

 

As determined as he was to take Y/N out again, Sam was also aware of his limitations and the amount of resources he had at hand. After a couple of weeks of hard work, and after having paid for his motel room and some food, he barely had thirty dollars to his name. There was only so much one could do with that amount of money. Perhaps he couldn’t afford to take her to the shopping mall in the high street, or take her out to a fancy restaurant, but he did know a place they could go to. 

That was Boston’s flea market. It was big, colorful, busy, and granted, a bit noisy, but one could find things there that you wouldn’t find anywhere else in the city.

And judging by the way the girl’s expression oozed with interest at the sight of the crowded street and the shopping stalls full of items of varied nature, he’d made the right call deciding to bring her there. Their hands were already linked together, and Sam held hers a bit tighter than usual, ensuring the waves of people walking up and down the place wouldn’t cause them to drift apart from each other. 

“Have you ever been to a flea market before?” He asked, raising his voice over the hustle surrounding them.

The girl shook her head without looking at him, her eyes too busy scanning through the objects around her. More specifically it was a golden bird cage that seemed to have her attention now.

“Really?” Sam frowned, genuinely surprised. “None at all? Never?” She shook her head once more, a hand reaching out to brush her fingertips against the bars of the golden cage when they walked past it. “So, your parents bought all your stuff on the high street?”

Squeezing his hand, Y/N turned her head towards him this time. Her hair moved along with the motion, spilling over her left shoulder. 

“Alright.” He said lively. “You guys must’ve had some decent money.”

Sam gazed back into the girl’s eyes, and noticed her stare had acquired a gloomy undertone, even if a light smile remained upon her lips. And he wanted to kick himself as soon as he noticed he shouldn’t have mentioned her parents, no matter how curious he might be about her life.  _‘You’re an idiot, Samuel Morgan.’_ , agreed the voice inside his head. He wanted to apologize so bad it had him turning paler by the minute.

But then he also thought that starting an apologetic conversation about her family wouldn’t do her any favors either. So instead, he sucked it up and worked on a smile that was as sincere as possible before tugging on her hand towards one of the stalls. He tried as hard as he could to ignore the heavy feeling inside his chest.

“Look.” Sam pointed at a brown hat hanging just above them, perched on one of the poles that kept the stall’s roof up. Reaching to grab it, he placed it on his head and adjusted it before donning it with a smile, looking at Y/N with his hands on his hips. “Indiana Jones.”

That prompted the girl to let out a laugh, so sudden she had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand. The sound made the feeling of pressure inside Sam’s chest disappear so quickly it almost felt like magic, and he allowed himself to laugh along too.

“Yeah, I know. Uncanny. Handsome guy with a roguish charm. All I need is a whip and people will start stopping me for autographs.”

She laughed harder this time, and Sam could swear she was beaming, full of light. She made everything brighter. He noticed the way she squinted her eyes when she was laughing in such a genuine way. One could see little more than the built up tears of laughter shining between her long lashes when she did this. 

Her chuckling subsided slowly, drifting into a soft and amused hum. She raised a steady hand to point at his chest, the tip of her finger pressing softly against his sternum, and Sam’s eyes flickered while his smile acquired a tint of confusion. 

“What? Is there something-” 

Sam’s sentence was left unfinished, because as soon as he lowered his head to check on his clothes, she raised her finger and flicked both the tip of his nose and the brim of the hat, which immediately flew off his head. He caught it mid-air just a second before it touched the ground in a display of sheer luck rather than of real ability, turning around in a terribly clumsy manner. Or at least it felt that way for him.

He heard the girl snicker behind him and he shook his head as he turned towards her, only to catch a glimpse of her back when she quickly walked away towards a different stall. And just like that she disappeared into the crowd.

His hand fumbled with the hat before hurriedly placing it back where he’d found it. “Hey Y/N, hold on!” Sam called out, pushing his way through the people to follow her trail. And he almost bumped into her, because it turned out she hadn’t gone too far. She was standing there, eyes fixed on an open wooden box full of trinkets. The vendor on the other side shot a charming smile at them, sightly yellowed teeth peeking through a thick mustache.

“See anything you like, dear?” The man’s voice could be heard clearly, resonating above the noise even without shouting, due to it’s deep yet cheerful tone.

She seemed more sheepish than intimidated, politely reluctant to snoop around the odds and ends scattered in front of her. Sam watched closely, unable to hide his interest when her fingers plunged inside the box to pull out a golden necklace. It was a round medallion, and only slightly bigger than a nickel. Engraved on it was a compass, all cardinal points present, and it was surprisingly clean and shiny compared to everything else in the wooden container.

Sam whistled, impressed, and leaned closer to inspect the pendant better while it dangled from the girl’s hands.

“Looks like you’ve found a treasure.” He pointed out, prompting another comment from the vendor who nodded in agreement. 

“A pretty necklace for a pretty girl.”

“Can’t argue with that logic. How much is it?” Sam joked, smiling sideways. By the time the words had left his mouth, he’d already pulled out his wallet and was thumbing through the few dollar bills inside it. 

“Only two dollars, kid.” 

The man watched him pull out a 5 dollar bill and as soon as he stretched his arm out to pay, the girl grabbed the sleeve of his denim jacket and tugged at it, shaking her head frantically but not being able to reach his hand. So Sam blocked her with his other arm, trying to keep her away from the money as best he could. This involved no lack of struggle. 

“Just take it before she climbs all over me.” He begged, chuckling along with the vendor. 

The older man accepted the payment and pulled the money from Sam’s hand, giving him a bunch of coins as change and thanking him afterwards. He chucked the cash inside the pocket of his jeans and faced the girl. There was no hiding the sly smile on his lips now, because although he could sense the disapproval in her eyes, there was no denying the deep gratitude in her expression as well. 

“Wanna try it on?” Sam took the necklace from her hands and gestured with his finger for her to turn around, and she obeyed. Y/N bit her lower lip, and it was a shame that he couldn’t see the smile that curled up the corners of her mouth now, product of the feeling in her stomach. She would’ve sworn there was a thousand fluttering butterflies inside her.

The girl run her fingers through her hair and threw it over her shoulder, exposing the back of her neck, while Sam opened the clasp on the necklace. He leaned closer to put it on her, but his hands stopped short.

His eyes traveled up the curved of her spine, noticing the way her clothes hugged the gentle curves of her body.

The burgundy color of her dress was lovely. It was long enough to brush her knees, and its sleeves covered just above her elbows.

His fingers twitched in a barely perceptible way. 

She had freckles on the back of her neck, scattered all over. So few that he could count them.

One, two, three...

Four, five, six...

She glanced at him briefly over her shoulder and he finally closed the distance between them, placing the pendant around her neck with gentle hands and closing the clasp again. 

She then turned around, her hands releasing the grip on her hair to brush her fingertips against the cold surface of the medallion. Her eyes looked for his for a brief moment, as if asking for his opinion. The street was still crowded, and the loud conversation cluttered the air, but for some reason they were muffled when reaching Sam’s ears. He was too busy noticing the way the delicate golden chain curved around the point where her collarbones met, adapting to the shape. 

“Looks great.” He finally mustered, clearing his throat afterwards.

She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, taking a step closer to reinforce the gentle squeeze her fingers then laid there. Despite the lack of words, Sam heard that ‘thank you’ loud and clear, her look so gentle on him he felt like melting. Why were his fingers burning at the thought of touching her hair? He couldn’t refrain himself from reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind the girl’s ear.

“You’re welcome.” He wasn’t sure he’d said that out loud, his lips barely mouthing the words. But her smile widened, so she must’ve heard him after all.

So many sounds and figures all around him and yet he only seemed to be able to focus on her. He was spacing out, and only when she grabbed his hand again and pulled from him did he snap out of it, to follow Y/N around the market.

She stopped at almost every stall to look through the items on sale, and they found many an interesting thing. There was a ginger man with a scraggly beard selling parrots. The birds were covered in beautifully colored feathers, and seemed healthy and springy. One of them, a grey African parrot, turned out to be specially talkative. He greeted them and asked what time it was, and Sam apologized to the animal for not having a watch. Another stall sold astrolabes and sailing trinkets, which he spent over fifteen minutes inspecting, and right by that one another one sold leather wristbands and belts, and a strong smell of incense emanated from it.

There was also a kind man with round glasses, selling ice cream cones by the dollar at the beginning of the food section of the market. All around that part of the street, the air carried a delicious scent of cooking food and fresh fruits and vegetables. It was enough to make your mouth water and your stomach rumble. 

By the time they reached the end of the street, they’d eaten a couple of ice creams, spotted a jacket made entirely from crocodile skin that Sam insisted on trying on, listened to a little jazz band play live in exchange for a bunch of coins, and inhaled way too much incense among other things. So when he noticed that some of the vendors were already putting their products away and getting ready to pack up, he decided it was time to leave.

 

A couple of hours had passed since they’d left the orphanage, and the night was upon them, a clear white moon hanging above their heads as they walked down the street. They were turning the corner, strolling by a bakery, when Sam stopped walking rather abruptly. 

“Maybe we don’t have to take you back just yet.” He offered, even if he knew he ought to bring her back to the orphanage. 

Y/N turned to look at him, their arms stretched out now since she’d kept on taking steps until she’d felt the pull on her hand, once he’d refused to continue walking. A silence surrounded them while she considered his words, the bakery casting a warm light over the two from inside the shop through the glass of the storefront. There was a hint of a smile on her face, so Sam decided to push his luck just a little bit more.

“I could take you to the cinema. I know they’re still showing movies at this time.” He hoped his fake nonchalance as he shrugged after saying that was convincing enough for him not to seem too desperate. But truth be told, he wanted to spend just a bit more time with her. After all, if she refused, the only thing he had to look forward to that night was an empty motel room. 

Then, suddenly, Sam felt a single drop of something cold collide against his forehead and drip down the bridge of his nose. He wiped it off as it was reaching his cheek and gazed up at the night sky with a frown. The moon was no longer visible, having turned into a faint, shining silhouette covered by thick grey clouds. Soon enough the pavement started to become speckled by raindrops, falling all around them with a muffled splattering sound. The weather had turned on them remarkably fast, a relatively dense curtain of rain now falling upon them.

Stripping of his denim jacket, Sam placed it over his head as a shield against the rainfall, and pulled the girl under it alongside him.

“Cinema sounds better now?” He spoke up, little pearls of water dripping from his fringe as he chuckled. She wrapped her hands around his arm and squeezed tightly with an obvious look on her face, laughing along with him and scooting a bit closer, making sure to stay underneath the jacket.

Sam would have to make sure to thank the weather later.

By the time they reached the cinema, his jacket was soaking wet and the water had started to come through the fabric and drip all over them too. They were still in high spirits nonetheless, finding the whole situation of having to run through the streets of Boston trying to stay shielded underneath a square of denim quite hilarious, despite the fact that they probably looked like absolute morons. 

They checked which movies were being shown in the next sessions, and ended up picking a new Disney one. It had been out for some time, but was so critically acclaimed it had not been removed from the billboard yet. Plus, the girl seemed rather enthusiastic about it, and deep down he was genuinely looking forward to it too. Not that he would ever admit it openly, but he enjoyed Disney movies more than he probably should. He was sure he’d been secretly more excited about them than his little brother half the times they’d sat down to watch one together.

So after grabbing a couple of tickets and buying a single popcorn box and a soda, which was all he could afford with the money he had left, they made their way into the cinema room. 

It was already dark as all hell in there, since the adverts that preceded the movie were now playing, and Sam tripped at one point while walking up the stairs towards their seats. He’d miscalculated the distance between steps and hit his foot, making a bunch of popcorn spill all over the floor. Of course he had to step on them afterwards, producing a crunching sound loud enough to earn him some annoyed looks from the people around him. But on the bright side, Y/N seemed to find it amusing, letting out a muffled laugh and tugging on his sleeve so he’d sit down at once.

“What can I say, I need to be the center of attention.” Sam joked, getting comfortable on his seat next to her. He’d learned it was better to laugh these things off in life, and he was good at making fun of himself if need be. And she only made it easier, since her eyes did not seem to know how to give a judgmental look. 

The movie started shortly after, and the room was practically empty, so the atmosphere was perfectly calm. Probably due to it being late enough at night that the kids who would usually go watch these movies would already be in bed by then. 

Sam was quickly engaged in the plot, and Y/N seemed just as enthralled, but it did not take long for his eyes to start wandering towards the girl instead of the massive screen before them. Her eyes were wide open with that inquisitive look that was so characteristic of her. She’d also crossed her legs, and remained quite still, with the exception of her hand, because her fingers kept on playing with the pendant that hung from her neck. 

The little golden medallion shimmered under the light of the screen every time she’d twirl it around. It really did look good on her. Though deep down, perhaps Sam knew that wasn’t the sole reason why he’d bought it for her. Somehow, people all through his life had found it surprisingly easy to dismiss him. Or forget about him. There was of course the exception of his little brother, since they were family. But other than that, he wondered if he’d even been present in anyone’s thoughts, really. He had no friends from the orphanage, he bet the kids there barely remembered he existed even with Nathan still around. If he ever crossed any of the nun’s minds, it was most likely as a bad memory, since they’d always considered him a nuisance and a bad influence. So there wasn’t much difference between that and being forgotten. And he’d bet everything he owned that his father never thought about them again after he’d dropped him and his brother into that rotten orphanage. Not that the man had ever given a damn about them anyway.

So perhaps, deep inside, by giving her something physical he was hoping that she wouldn’t forget him so easily. At least not as easily as everyone else seemed to. Maybe, just maybe, if she wore it often, she would remember him every time she’d look at it. 

A popcorn hit him on his forehead and bounced off, making him scrunch his nose and blink a couple of times in surprise. When his eyes focused again, and he stopped looking at the girl’s hand, he gazed up to meet her eyes. He’d been staring. Again. He seemed to be doing that an awful lot lately. Sam could only hope he wouldn’t end up being slapped in the face for it at some point. 

“Sorry, I was just-” He began in a whisper, but she placed her index finger in front of her lips and hushed him with a soft sound. She then smiled, her hand moving to point towards the movie. So he smiled back at her, extremely grateful that he wouldn’t have to make an attempt at explaining himself, and turned his head towards the screen.

Once he started paying attention to the movie, it was easy to get back into the plot again. The story was about a young mermaid, her hair an extremely bright shade of red. She was Triton’s youngest daughter, and as it turns out, she was quite smitten by a human prince. The story was enjoyable enough, with a funny little crab quickly becoming the most amusing thing in the film.

But it wasn’t until further along the line that the storyline became truly interesting. And Sam started to wonder if there was some kind of destiny at play that had driven them towards watching that movie. At one point, the mermaid had decided she’d give anything to visit the surface and meet her prince charming. Lo and behold, she was asked for nothing less than her voice in exchange for a spell that would give her legs.

So this protagonist soon found herself stumbling around in a world she didn’t know, without being able to utter a single word, and surrounded by people that couldn’t quite understand anything she tried to say. And when Sam turned to lay his eyes upon the girl beside him once more, the look on her face was something he knew he’d never forget.

Her lips were parted as if permanently holding a breath, and her hand now still, clutching tightly on her necklace. Her eyes, growing slightly watery, shone like never before, and he wasn’t quite sure if she was excited or sad. Or perhaps both. Whichever the case, what she was seeing was definitely striking a cord in her. He couldn’t begin to imagine how relatable it must’ve been for Y/N, really. And it was hard, if not impossible, seeing her like this and not finding her absolutely lovely. 

There was such emotion flowing from the girl, he almost felt like he’d lost his voice himself and could feel the turmoil of feelings inside her as if it were his own.

He’ll be damned, he could not pry his eyes away from her. He was barely aware of the way he was squeezing the container of their drink a bit too tight, almost making the soda drip from the end of the straw. And the more he looked at Y/N, the more it felt like the few inches separating them on their seats were already too wide. After ten minutes of sneakily glancing at her every time he had the chance, the urge of pulling the girl closer and wrapping his arm around her was great enough to make him want to attempt to slit his wrists with the carton of his popcorn box rather than hold back any longer.

So he took a deep breath and tried to seem aloof before slowly raising his arm and slipping it behind the back of her neck, wrapping it around her shoulders. This, she noticed. His gesture seemingly pulled her out of the movie for a moment. Her face turned towards him, and she looked down at his arm and then back up at him.  _‘Just don’t. Look. Awkward.’_ whispered the familiar voice inside his head. So he opted for keeping his eyes glued to the movie screen and pretending that everything was _oh so very natural_. Despite the monumental heat that was quickly spreading across his face. 

He was already bracing for impact, considering she might just throw the soda all over him and walk away, when he felt the tips of her fingers brushing against his. But a second later, she was holding his hand like they always used to do, and hers felt so soft and welcoming he let out the biggest sigh of relief. 

The warmth seeping from the girl’s body quickly put the tension flowing through him to rest, and even if it took his heart a bit longer before it became steady once more, he found himself being so comfortable in her proximity that he inevitably began wishing for the movie not to end any time soon.

He was surprised with himself, if Sam was to be completely honest. He’d been with girls plenty of times. He was witty and charming around them, always calm and collected, managing to play it cool. Hence he was baffled as to why he had to turn into putty whenever he was around Y/N. So what, he could have his tongue down a random girl’s throat in the middle of a parking lot and not feel a single tingle go through his body, but if he brushed shoulders with this particular girl his heart tried to somersault out of his chest?

Brilliant. 

Lost as he was within his own trail of thought, he remained oblivious to the fact that the credits were rolling until the lights came back on and made him squint in aversion to the sudden brightness. He reluctantly removed his arm from her shoulders and they both got up, sharing a look before getting back in motion. He really had to take her back to the orphanage now.

“Did you like it?” Sam asked as they walked down the stairs and out of the room side by side. Her hand looked for his, and this time the girl entwined her fingers with his and squeezed tight. And his heart did the freaking jump thing again. “So, was Ariel your favorite character then?” And again, he felt her squeeze, but this time the gesture was accompanied by a smile.

“Mine has to be Sebastian.” Pushing the main doors to the cinema open for her to walk out first, he followed suit, still hand in hand. “I’m gonna have that damn  _‘under the sea_ ’ song stuck in my head for months now.”

They chuckled in unison before stopping after crossing the street. There were two different routes they could take, and Sam’s eyes traveled from one street to another, the second one being more of a narrow alleyway. 

“Alright ‘cause it’s late-” He started, turning to look at her in search of approval. “I’ll take you through a shortcut and we’ll be there in no time.”

She seemed convinced enough, and gestured with her head, asking for him to lead the way. Halfway to their destination, they were still commenting on the movie. Well, he was, with her making her silent contributions to their conversation. It was almost a thing of magic how much interaction they managed to have despite her lack of speech. And Sam had long ago gotten used to this dynamic. 

“I still can’t believe Ursula died impaled by the mast of a ship. That’s some scarring stuff for kids, right there.” He joked as they strolled down the dim lit alley. They were walking slower than usual. Probably because neither of them wanted to arrive at the orphanage, really. “Hey, Y/N.”

The girl’s eyes turned to look at him now, a faint remnant of her previous laugh at his comment still leaving her lips. Sam kept his eyes on one of the few streetlamps around them, knowing he wouldn’t be able to push the words out of his mouth were he to return her gaze.

“So, if I kissed you... would you get your voice back too?”

He gnawed on his lower lip to prevent it from twitching when he failed to repress a smile, stare still well averted from the girl next to him. Her eyes opened, fluttering with an embarrassment immediately signaled by the quick spread of an intense blush on the apples of her cheeks. Letting out an irregular laugh, she gently swatted his arm, shaking her head at him.

“What? Is it because I’m not a prince?” Sam asked, his eyes meeting hers this time to find she couldn’t hide her smile either. “Well... there’s also a movie called _The Lady and The Tramp_ , right? Maybe that sounds more fitting?” He wouldn’t stop teasing, and it was getting to the point were her flustering was such that it made her ears burn. 

He had fun joking around like that with her, since her reactions were always so fleshed out for most things. Of course she didn’t have to worry about taking him seriously. He wasn’t _really_  going to kiss her. Because he wasn’t...

...right?

Their laughs mingled, and softened almost at the same time, until there was nothing left of them but a smile gracing their lips. Still their stares were stuck together, and he could feel his own hand growing warm around hers. The street was quiet. So quiet he could clearly hear the thumping sound of his own heart beating increasingly faster inside his chest. Her eyes. God, it was always her beautiful eyes. Looking up at him in that way that made him want to step closer and...

And then a sound. Like a metallic click. 

The noise had, for some reason, given him a bad feeling.

But it was the silver blade reflecting the flickering streetlight that instantly made every hair on his body stand on end. 

A knife. And the hand holding it belonged to a man who must’ve been in his mid-twenties. Hard to tell with the hood covering his face.

“Alright kids. You know what I am. You know what this is. Empty your pockets.” 

The man’s voice reached Sam in a weirdly distant way, as if he weren’t really standing there right now. 

He swallowed down the bile slowly flooding his taste buds. Suddenly he felt like vomiting. His guts started turning so quickly.

“W-woah...hey...” His eyes traveled from the knife to the man's partially hidden features. Despite how quickly his blood had started to freeze in his veins, his first impulse was to put himself between Y/N and the threat, stepping in between the girl and the mugger and keeping her behind him with his arm. “We don’t have anything on us. I swear. Look.”

He was quick to turn his pockets inside out, the only thing coming out being a couple of pennies that he threw on the ground. Her dress had no pockets and she wasn’t carrying a bag either, so he knew the man wouldn’t care much for her. 

“What’s that you’re wearing little one?” The man pointed with the knife towards Y/N, who was frozen in place behind Sam. “Is it gold?” 

The medallion.

“No- No!” He quickly intervened, his voice a lot more irregular than he’d hoped, and he swallowed again, thickly. His throat was so dry. “I bought it at the market for like two dollars, man. Come on.”

“Alright, then you won’t mind handing it over, right little one?” His smile was vile. His teeth were not rotten. They were not crooked. But it still seemed animalistic, almost predatory. 

Sam heard Y/N gasp behind him, the girl’s shaky hands quickly clutching the pendant in a protective manner. 

He looked back at her, and he could feel his chest growing so tight he thought he’d stop being able to breathe at any given time. She shook her head at the man’s question, her teary eyes frantically shifting between the blade and him. 

“Give it here.” This time the threat was much rougher, a stern tone tinting the thief’s voice as he took a couple of steps towards her. 

It almost felt like the time had slowed down for a moment while Sam considered the situation as the stranger approached them. He could take the necklace from her and give it to the man, and hope he’d leave them alone. Or he could run into a knife for a two dollar pendant.

_‘What is it going to be?’_

It all got really convoluted really fast. She let out a strangled sound, and Sam grabbed the man´s wrist out of impulse. That earned him a punch to the face.

He felt his ears ringing and the sound of bone colliding against bone when the mugger’s knuckles clashed against his left cheek. The pain was immediate. He felt the flesh there split and the blood drip down his cheek, a sensation of deep heat emanating from the cut spreading through his skin. But there was no time to think so the next thing he knows he’s tackled the guy to the ground and he’s doing his best to avoid getting hit again while making sure not to let go of his hand. Because as long as he was holding the knife, he might as well be dead in the blink of an eye. 

The man was older than him. But Sam was strong. Stronger than most, for his age. That much he knew.

Then he heard a set of uncertain steps behind him. He couldn’t look at her since he was struggling to keep the guy pinned down, but he heard the girl approaching clearly. 

“ **Y/N, don’t!** Stay back!” His voice wasn’t all there. And neither was his mind. His brain was stuttering, jamming, struggling to process the turn of events. It all hit him suddenly, at once, like a train wreck.

_‘Knife. There’s a knife. You could die. She could die. You need to take care of that.’_

In a panicked response he strengthened the grip around the man’s wrist and slammed it against the ground. Once. Twice. He heard him grunt a pained complaint. He wasn’t letting go. Three, four times. Then his fingers finally gave up and the knife flew off, landing on the ground near them. 

Y/N was looking at the scene wide-eyed and trembling all over, her feet nailed to the ground as the boy had requested. But Sam couldn’t see her. His sight was almost blurry. He heard the thief’s gnashing teeth, and felt him try to wrap his fingers around his throat. That’s when his fear peaked again and his fist slammed the man in the face without him even commanding it to do so. 

But his throat was still free of the stranger’s fingers, so he did it again, knuckles smashing against his jaw. And again. And he felt the guy’s teeth sink into his skin when he hit him in the mouth.

There was a loud alarm ringing in his brain, drowning everything else. His eyes closed shut. He wasn’t looking anymore, just throwing punches out of sheer terror. He figured, if that man couldn’t get up, he couldn’t hurt them.

“Don’t touch her!” He could hear himself shouting. “Don’t you _dare_ touch her!” But he sounded far from heroic. Far from tough. His voice was cracked. His fists were increasingly aching with each hit. 

Out of nowhere, a hand. Someone grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop. It made him open his eyes again and stare down at the man underneath him. His face was covered in red, blood glistening under the street light. He was choking on it too, gurgling sounds leaving his throat. He hadn’t noticed he’d actually knocked out a couple of his teeth. 

Sam’s body felt extremely heavy. If it wasn’t for Y/N pulling from him he wasn’t sure he’d been able to get up. He stumbled away from the bleeding man, muscles rigid and eyes burning with repressed tears, and watched the mugger struggle to get up and scurry away into the darkness like a sewer rat, leaving a trail of blood behind him. 

The girl’s hand traveled up from his wrist to his arm, gripping tight like a silent request for his eyes to look at her. And so he did, their stares connecting. She looked shaken up, just as he did, but seeing her there safe and sound made him feel something that resembled relief among the storm of panic inside him. It was over. They were alright. 

“C’mere...” His voice was but a ragged murmur, pulling the girl close to hug her tight against him. And his embrace was returned by her arms wrapping around his waist, Y/N's fingers curling up around the fabric of his jacket.

For how long they stayed like this, just holding each other tight in silence, he wasn’t certain of. But he never let go until they’d both stopped trembling completely, and his pulse slowed down once again. 

They’d walked back to the orphanage enveloped in a cloak of haziness, both struggling to acknowledge what just happened. The pain traveling up his forearms from his knuckles made everything far more real, however. His hands were dripping blood, bruised and cut all over. And having to climb up those tall walls back towards her bedroom had never been harder. 

This time, even he was awfully quiet, and Sam never broke his silence until he helped her up and through the window. He somehow felt it necessary to share the thoughts that had started to bother him.

“Y/N.” 

He looked at her as he sat on the ledge, ready to jump back out. She noticed he looked guilty, his eyes heavy with concern.

“I-...I understand if you don’t really wanna go out with me again after this. I guess it’s just my luck.” His smile was only illuminated by the pale moonlight, and Y/N found it a sad gesture. 

She didn’t smile back. Her head shook twice with conviction, and then she placed a hand on his neck, just below his jawline, her thumb caressing his skin.

“You do?” Sam whispered, the gloomy veil that covered his expression slowly disappearing. 

Before she could answer, a voice interrupted the scene, coming from the girl’s back.

“Holy shit...” 

It was Nathan, his blue eyes widening at the sight of his older brother. “What happened?” To say that he was shocked would be to put it mildly. 

Y/N retrieved her hand and Sam smiled sideways at his little brother. 

“You want the short version? We got jumped.”

“Jumped?!”

Sam shushed him, reminding the kid about the other orphans sleeping in the room. 

“So that’s how you got that?” Nathan’s finger pointed at his brother’s left cheek, and he shrugged.

“Yeah well, you should’ve seen the other guy.” 

The boy blinked a couple of times, letting this information sink in, and Sam’s lips slowly turned into a thin line. 

“You wanna go bowling?”

“Huh?” Nathan frowned, his upper lip rising slightly in utter confusion. Bowling? Only Sam could get the crap beaten out of him and then act like nothing at all happened. 

“Yeah. I got a job lined up for next week so...whaddaya say? I could take you next weekend.” 

A sigh left Nathan’s lips that then turned into a smile. His brother really was impossible sometimes.

“Sure, sounds great.” He finally laughed lightly.

There was a brief pause during which Sam’s eyes shifted towards Y/N. 

“Would you like to come too?”

She let out a hum, eyes fixed on his in a tender look. 

“Nice. I’ll pick you up next week then.” And with those words he brushed the back of his fingers against Nathan’s cheek endearingly, and shot the girl a smile. “Good night you two.”

As the younger brother sat back down on his bed by the window, Y/N tugged on Sam’s sleeve, holding him back from jumping out, and leaning closer to plant a kiss on his cheek, just over the cut now present on his cheekbone. The gesture was so soft he barely felt it sting even when his skin was bruised. 

They only linked their gaze for a second, and then Sam was gone. Because actions speak louder than words,

She sat on her bed across from Nathan, both looking out the window for a brief moment.

Then the kid pointed at his lips. 

“You got some blood...there.” 

Y/N touched her mouth with her fingertips, gazing at them afterwards, stained red.

Must have been the kiss. 

She looked at the boy too, and pointed at her cheek.

Nathan brushed his face with the back of his hand, looking down at the blood smudged on it.

Must have been his brother’s caress.


	3. Mauve

It always started the same way. Sometimes it was his clothes, or his hair, or the way he walked. 

Today it was his choice of company.

"Look at this moron." The boy stood about a head taller than Nathan. Steve, he thought was his name. 

"Yeah, look at him. What's up Morgan? Making friends with the weirdo?" And that was Neil. Steve's best friend. Slightly shorter, yet considerably stockier than his buddy. 

But what really stood out in them, was that they were grade A assholes. 

"It's because no one else likes him, dude. Or his stupid street rat brother." The boys laughed in unison, with Steve pushing Nathan on his shoulder, hard enough to be a provocation.

The nudge hadn’t bothered Nathan enough to retaliate, and he’d continued walking by Y/N’s side. But once the boy mentioned his brother, he’d stopped dead on his tracks.

Some of the kids, already sitting at the tables and eating their food, had started to turn their heads towards the scene taking place right next to them, intrigued.

Nathan was about to say something back, when the girl grabbed him softly by the arm and shook her head in reprobation, trying to let him know starting a fight over this wasn’t worth it. And he had to give in, because she was right. Sam wouldn’t have given a damn what those two idiots said about him.

He resumed his way towards the last table where he usually sat, and then...

“How old were you when your father dumped you here, Morgan? Five? I’m surprised he put up with you for that long.”

The collective laugh that this comment sprawled all around him crawled its way into Nathan’s brain, inside his bones, inside his blood, making it boil. Blue eyes looked up at Y/N, a glance drenched in anger, pleading for permission to take the action he knew he was entitled to. And she held his stare for a second before her fingers slowly released their grip on him. 

She nodded once and Nathan tackled James so suddenly that it never minded the boy was twice his size.

Needless to say all hell broke loose just then, with the majority of the kids at the dining hall banging their fists on the tables at the chant of ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’, and some others crowding around them to witness the show.

Neil soon sprinted to try and get Nathan away from his friend, but Y/N was faster, catching his wrist just in time to prevent him from punching her friend. People often forgot that the girl was the eldest of the kids at the orphanage due to her silent and harmless appearance, but she was still taller and stronger than most kids there.

Hence when she pushed Neil on his chest with both hands to get him away from Nathan, he fell flat on the floor, landing on his back. His eyes followed Y/N as she walked over to him and stared down with contained despise, her upper lip lifting ever so slightly, like she was looking at a bag of garbage left on the street.

Nathan was throwing punches without even looking at what he was hitting anymore, yelling things that would’ve made a sailor turn pale, but he must’ve been landing his hits just fine because one could hear the boy underneath him cry in pain every so often.

But Steve was considerably bigger than him, so any damage he managed to do until then, he received doubled in one single punch that landed on his jaw and made him fall on his side. He found it weird how his ear started to get really warm and go numb before anything else on that side of his face.

“You little shit!” Steve shouted at Nathan, as he struggled to get back on his feet, his ears ringing from the hit he’d just taken. And the older boy was about to land another punch on him when the crowd was dispersed by a tall and dark figure that made its way easily through the orphans.

It was then that Nathan knew he’d screwed up. Big time.

He didn’t know it was sister Agnès’ shift to watch over the kids during lunch time, otherwise he would’ve thought it twice before starting a fight like that one.

Sister Agnès was one of the eldest nuns in the orphanage. She was of French origin, but after so many years of serving there her accent was almost completely gone, and could only be heard clearly when someone angered her. Which wasn’t hard, and happened often. Had she been a deadly sin, she would’ve been wrath, no doubt. 

The woman was tall and skinny, but somehow possessed a deadly strong grip whenever she would grab you by the arm with her bony hands to drag you away. Her temples were high, and her cheeks sucked in, with eyes fairly small although strikingly grey. Altogether she resembled a vulture, in Nathan’s eyes, only missing a curved protruding nose. Hers was small, and thin.

Severe and devote like no other, everyone knew it was bad news whenever she’d show up to look after the orphans, and those were the only days where everyone’s behavior was a thing of excellence. Nothing could be amiss when sister Agnès was around.

All in all, Nathan would rather square up to God any day, than to sister Agnès.

But the mistake had already been made. And they were about to know what angering that vulture of God would get them in exchange.

She needn’t tell the boys to stand up, they promptly got on their feet by themselves as soon as they saw her coming, dusting off their clothes and lowering their heads in shame. All but Y/N, who didn’t seem to know whose presence she was standing in. 

“To my office. **Now.** ” Sister Agnès commanded with a stern voice, and the kids formed an orderly line, all four of them leaving the dining hall immediately. She then landed her deadly stare over the crowd of orphans surrounding her. “Stick your noses back into your food, there’s nothing to see here.”

And just like that, order reigned in the room once more, with the rest of the kids looking as innocent as physically possible while they ate from their plates with tame eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Nathan and Y/N were waiting outside the office, with their backs against the wall and their stares glued to the ugly mustard-yellow wallpaper that covered the hall. They were silent, and an atmosphere of impending doom floated in the air, reminiscent of what walking a green mile would’ve felt like. 

They could hear the voices coming from inside the room, albeit faintly, muffled by the closed wooden door. Then a couple of smacking sounds. Then a couple more. And both James and Neil walked out of the office, breathing ragged and eyes red and puffy from crying.

And the door was left open for them, like a dangerous invitation.

Nathan and Y/N shared a silent look and ventured inside the office, with her walking in ahead of him.

“Close the door.” The nun requested from them, and Nathan was quick to do so. She was sitting on her desk, writing down something on a large notebook, whose pages were painted gold along the borders. He noticed a capital A emblazoned on the navy blue hardcover.

The girl stood a few feet away from the desk, with Nathan instinctively standing behind her as if to hide himself from the preying gaze of the old woman. He had to admit, he was almost impressed by how unshaken Y/N was by the whole situation. He was admittedly scared to death himself, even if he was trying to hide it as best he could. He blamed her ability to remain unfazed on her lack of knowledge about who this woman sitting in front of them was, and what she was notorious for.

“Now…” Sister Agnès started, her voice cold and tempered if not a bit raspy. Nathan felt antsy at the mere sound of it. She got up from her chair slowly and her hand reached for the long, metallic ruler that laid on her desk, bony fingers curling around it tightly. She pointed at Nathan with it, and her eyes locked on him at the same time. “I know you well, Nathan Morgan.”

Nathan sucked in a breath, the nun’s stare starting to weight on him. It felt like those grey eyes could look straight into one’s soul, seeking for sins to purge.

“You’re slowly making a habit of causing trouble, just like your brother before you.” Agnès held the ruler horizontally with both hands now, keeping it close to her abdomen. Her glance traveled quickly now to land on the girl standing in front of him. “And you… you’re that silent girl.”

The woman took a couple of steps so she could look at Y/N a bit closer, scrutinizing her face.

“Poor little lamb, only heaven knows why God took your voice away.” She lamented.

Nathan swallowed thickly. It smelled a lot like old wood and rosemary in that room, and for some reason it was making him nauseous.

After a brief pause, she continued, her chin raising slightly.

“You know why you’re here already. That barbaric, brutish behavior will not be condoned here. You’re not animals, hence you should know better than to act like them.”

He wanted to apologize but his voice had died somewhere in his throat, leaving him with nothing else to do but to stand there in regret.

“That goes doubled for you, Morgan. You seem to be developing an inclination towards violence that’s very problematic indeed.” The ruler was pointed at him again, and Nathan’s bright eyes gazed at the woman on the other end of it, with a hint of fear.

He tried clearing his throat and that seemed to help him find his voice once more.

“That’s not fair. They started it, I was only-“

“Enough.” Sister Agnès was quick to interrupt him, a frown spreading across her forehead, intensifying the wrinkles there. “They have suffered the consequences of their actions, and so must you. We must all be punished for our misdeeds, no exceptions.”

_Punished._

“Now, step forward Morgan.”

She’d said _punished._

He noticed he wasn’t moving, his feet nailed to the floor, frozen in place.

“What are you waiting for, boy?” The old woman waved the ruler in front of Nathan, and suddenly Y/N’s hand sprung up, catching the nun’s wrist.

And a cold sweat spread all the way up Nathan’s back.

“You might want to re-think that, child.” Sister Agnès hissed a warning, her eyes narrowing into two thin lines. “Or I swear you’ll pay for the both of you.”

Nathan’s legs were turning into jelly, but the girl didn’t seem to be backing off. Her grip became stronger on the nun’s wrist instead, her eyes fixed on the old woman’s.

“Very well then.”

Only then did he manage to pull himself together just enough to raise his voice once more.

“No, wait!” He pleaded while his friend released her grip. “It’s okay, I will-“

“No.” Once again, he was not permitted to finish his sentence. Sister Agnès glanced at him with such cold determination he had to take a step back.  “She’s made her bed, Morgan. Now she must lie in it.”

It was the ruthless tint in her eyes, and the righteous tone in her voice, that made Nathan unable to move a single muscle to protest against her final judgement. It was total.

“Stick your hands out. Palms open.” Sister Agnès commanded. And Y/N swiftly obeyed, exposing the soft, rosy palms of her hands.

Without so much as a warning, the ruler came down, clashing against the girl’s palms with a loud smack.

Nathan flinched.

So that was the sound they’d heard before.

From his position, he could only see the left side of Y/N’s face, and the way her fingers instantly curled up after the hit, her eyes closing shut. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d heard a strangled whine leave her throat, drowned by the loud sound of the ruler colliding against her skin.

He felt himself turning paler by the minute.

“Open.” Agnes reminded her. And Y/N’s fingers slowly uncurled once more, her palms now quickly turning a bright shade of red.

The ruler cut through the air once more, and this time the girl flinched but Nathan didn’t, he was feeling dizzy. Her fingers stayed straight, hands laid out.

“Now flip them around, child.”

Nathan found the calmness in the woman’s voice disturbing, and the way her eyes remained glued to the girl’s face was no less intimidating.

Y/N’s hands flipped around slowly, white and bare knuckles now visible, and she bit her lower lip in anticipation for the next hit. Which wasn’t delayed.

Another smack filled the air and this time the sound was louder, drier, as metal collided against bone.

He shuddered, wanting to look away but feeling it would be almost disrespectful.

This time she knew better, and was aware there was still one more blow left to come, so her hands did not coil up now. And so sister Agnès swung her ruler once more, and one more impact could be heard, resonating around the spacious study. Y/N’s teeth finally released her lower lip, having left a visible mark on them from biting down too harshly.

“You’re a good kid, I’m proud that you’ve acknowledged your error..” The old woman said, but her voice was rather devoid of emotion even as she praised the girl. “Hopefully you have learned something from this experience, should this punishment be enough to keep you from making the same mistakes again. You’re free to go now.”

Y/N retrieved her hands, and surrounded by a silence that was almost solemn, she walked out of the room.

Sister Agnès placed the ruler back down on her desk with a steady hand, and waved them away as she sat back down on her chair. And this was Nathan’s cue to exit, following his friend’s steps.

Now outside in the hall, Nathan breathed in the fresh air, unsaturated of rosemary and dusty old wood, and found it extremely relieving. But once it was all over, and his body and mind were slowly starting to function properly once more, ridding of that paralyzing fear, he soon started to feel the tears come. They flooded his eyes and streamed down his face, scalding hot, product of the bottled up anger and sadness.

“Why did you do that?!” He almost scolded her, his voice breaking. Y/N turned around to look  at him, but of course she did not answer. The knot in his throat was too tight, it hurt. Walking the distance that kept them apart, Nathan nudged her on the arm.

“You shouldn’t have done that! I could’ve taken that old harpy’s punishment just fine! Why did you have to do that?”

The kid barely finished talking, his voice giving up and turning into a soft whine towards the end. So he just stood there, while his shoulders shook with his weeping and teardrops landed on his chest, staining his sweater.

He looked up at Y/N between a blurry curtain of tears and noticed her eyes were red and watery, and a single tear trailed down her right cheek. But she was smiling down at him. A soft, gentle smile. It was such a tender gesture.

The boy let out a strangled sound and wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his sweater, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist afterwards and hugging her tight. His cheeks were soon wet with tears again, and he closed his eyes shut, burying his face on the crook of Y/N’s neck. She smelled so good. Like clean clothes and flowery shampoo.

The girl returned the embrace immediately, placing a hand on Nathan’s back and rubbing it softly in a circular motion that was weirdly comforting.

Nathan sniffled softly.

“Thanks…” He whispered with a broken voice. 

***

It was lovely outside, and the sun was peaking through the open windows, its warm light washing over the piled up books scattered around the floor in a curiously careful manner. They were never tossed there, but neatly arranged due to a lack of a better place where to keep them. There were no bookcases in Sam’s motel room, and every gap available on the TV stand had already been filled up with the CDs he owned.

The radio was on, tuned on a random station, and was currently blasting “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel a bit higher than it was acceptable. The music filled the air, reaching Sam’s ears as he stood in front of the bathroom’s mirror. He’d been checking his hair our for a solid 5 minutes now, combing it, styling it, running his fingers through it in a tireless battle against the rebel brown locks.

It was all for naught, the more he tried to make it look as neat as possible, the more his hair rebelled against his will. And currently a particularly curled up lock of hair stood out the most, dangling from his fringe as if it had a life of its own, like it was mocking him.

Sam groaned in frustration, his eyes fixed on his own reflection. Whatever he did, he didn’t seem able to get rid of his slightly disheveled looks.

But then again, why did he care so much all of a sudden?

He didn’t remember the last time he’d actually looked at himself in the mirror while brushing his hair. And that’s if he ever did brush it, usually preferring the alternative of getting out of bed, shaking his head, running his fingers through it and leaving the house as is.

But not today. Today he was there, noticing every single thing that was wrong with him, no matter how minuscule.

‘Why does my hair look like I just stuck a fork in an electrical socket?’ As he ruffles his hair.

‘Are those new freckles on my right cheek?’ As he scrutinizes his skin.

‘Fuck, wait, did I chip another tooth?’ As he smiles at himself in the mirror with a hint of disgust.

He let out a long sigh, completely defeated, and placed his hands on the white sink in front of him. His eyes looked past the bathroom door and into the living room, noticing the inviting weather outside. And then he checked the clock that hanged on the wall.

“Shit!” He blurted out all of a sudden, almost tripping on a bunch of books that were on the way as he run out of the bathroom and looked around frantically, trying to locate his sneakers.

He was already late, and Sam really didn’t want to miss the break during which the kids at the orphanage would go out and play for a while, making it all the more easy to sneak out with his brother and Y/N. He did promise to take them to the bowling alley.

He finally found his shoes underneath the couch, and he put them on with one hand, and at the same time he reached to retrieve his denim jacket from the coat hanger with the other. He snatched the keys from the kitchen counter, shoved them inside his jean’s pocket and turned off the radio before leaving.

His ride was waiting for him outside.

A luxurious bicycle from the 80’s. Notice the sarcasm.

The thing was half rusted to hell when he found it laying around in a junkyard surrounding the mechanics near his motel, and though he’d done a very decent job at refurbishing it, it still looked to be old and in a fairly precarious shape. Not that it mattered to Sam. As long as it took him places. And it had proven to be surprisingly sturdy.

For some reason he found himself wondering if Y/N would mind going around the city riding that decrepit thing.

Sam managed to reach the orphanage on time for the kid’s break not to be over yet, even if that meant he’d cycled through the city at an insane speed and had almost crashed against a couple of cars while doing so. He got off the bike panting like an old dog, and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. His eyes gazed up at the high walls towering in front of him.

“Ah, of course, the climbing… Golden.” He muttered to himself, trying to catch his breath.

By the time he reached the window to his brother’s bedroom, he was glad he hadn’t spent more time stressing over the way he looked back home. He probably looked dreadful now anyway. He imagined all the cycling and climbing  had left his hair as messy as it could ever be, with strands of it going all directions.  And he could feel the heat on his cheeks denoting he was probably flushed to no end due to all that previous activity.

A true Casanova, he was.

Sam pushed himself up the window ledge and stuck his head inside, his eyes immediately catching the sight of Nathan laying down on his bed and reading a book, right in front him.

“Surprise, surprise.” He reached out to poke his brother on the head.

Nathan pried his eyes away from the pages and raised his head to look at the window, catching the sight of Sam, now upside down from his position.

“Look what the cat dragged in!”

“I really need to teach you to respect your elders.”

Laughing in a cheerful tone, Nathan pushed himself up on his elbows.

“You look like a tomato.” He joked, letting out an amused little sound.

“A good lookin’ one?”

“Hell no.”

They both laughed this time, but Sam’s chuckling slowly relented when his eyes noticed the bruise spreading across Nathan’s jawline and part of his cheek. He winced lightly, frown burrowing as he pointed at his little brother’s cheek.

“What’s up with that?” He asked, dragging his words

“Oh, yeah that…”

Nathan seemed to have only just remembered the events from that morning.

“We uh-…we got in a fight.”

“We?”

Turning his head towards the far end of the room, Nathan’s eyes landed on the figure that was now laying on the very last bed, covered with a blanket. Sam’s eyes followed his brother’s, looking at the silhouette from his position on the window.

“Is she alright?” Sam asked, his voice turning a bit lower and acquiring a tint of concern that could easily be seen in his eyes.

“She’s fine. She didn’t get punched or anything, all she did was pushing Neil away when he tried to punch me.” Nathan explained without averting his eyes from the girl just yet. “She’s napping now because she wasn’t feeling very well, she wanted to have some energy for when we went bowling.”

“Alright. But Nathan I’ve told you-“

“I know what you’ve told me.” He interrupted, turning his blue eyes towards his older brother now. He knew he’d done wrong retaliating, but the harm was long done now. No point getting another lecture about it. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.”

Sam sighed, a long, drawn out sound, and then smiled a bit as he ruffled Nathan’s hair endearingly.

“Alright, well… ready for some bowling then?” His smile widened now, but soon vanished once more when he noticed there was still something clearly wrong.

Nathan was standing there in silence, avoiding his stare and scratching his arm with a twinge of guilt on his face that was impossible to ignore. He knew his little brother well enough to know there was something still gnawing on his conscience.

He also knew that if he waited long enough…

“There’s something I should tell you.”

Sam raised his eyebrows slowly, smiling internally at how predictable Nathan was. So he hummed in an understanding manner, leaning over the window a bit more to get closer.

“Go on.”

“Well the fight we got into… it happened during-“

Nathan had stopped talking, and went onto biting his lower lip nervously.

“During?” Sam helped, assuming he needed a little push.

“During sister Agnès’ shift.”

Sam felt his jaw drop a bit, his lips parting in disbelief and his eyes quickly darting towards his brother’s hands, looking for the bruises that he knew he should’ve been sporting. Because he’d been through plenty of sister Agnès’ punishments himself. He knew full well the consequences that angering that woman would bring.

Reaching out to grab Nathan’s wrist, Sam flipped his hand over, eyes scanning the palms quickly in search for any bruising. But his palms had been left untouched as well. He frowned, confused, and Nathan retrieved his hand with a sigh.

“I’m okay, I didn’t get the ruler.”

“Nathan you have to be more careful! That woman is the devil. What did she do to you?”

“Nothing! She was gonna, but then-“

Nathan’s eyes became stained with a look of deep guilt, his head hanging.

“But then Y/N-…she got in the way. And I tried to say something, I swear! But it all happened so fast, and she wouldn’t back off so she got punished for the both of us. But I asked her not to do it. I could’ve taken the punishment. She didn’t have to do it…” Nathan was talking without pauses, almost as if he didn’t want to give his brother a chance to interrupt him and scold him for allowing something like that to happen.

“Alright, hey-“ Sam placed a hand underneath his little brother’s chin and lifted his head so that he had to look him in the eye. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault Nathan.”

“But I started the fight! If I hadn’t-!”

“It’s **not** your fault.” He made sure to stress his words this time, yet he could see he was not managing to wipe away the guilt present on Nathan’s face.

In all fairness, he was internally freaking out. He did not enjoy the idea of either of them getting hurt. Not one bit. But his brother was already being hard enough on himself, there was no need to keep on beating a dead horse.

“Look, I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Sam’s hand landed on Nate’s shoulder, squeezing it tight in a reassuring gesture. “She’s tough.”

He saw his brother’s eyes land on his own, dying to believe his words.

“We’ll go out today, the three of us, and we’ll have some fun. And I bet you by the end of the day she won’t even remember all that ever happened. Okay?” Pulling every bit of strength he had in him and trying to believe his own words just as much, Sam drew a tender smile for Nathan to see, trying to make him feel better.  

“Okay.” His little brother finally agreed, much for his own relief, and returned his smile with one of his own, albeit a bit fainter.

“Alright, good. Now go wake the sleepin’ beauty, c’mon.”

Nathan’s smile widened a bit before he turned on his heels and made his way towards Y/N’s bed.

And Sam’s eyes were locked on them as his brother woke her up gently, and she sat up straight on the bed, yawning and stretching her body a bit. But he wasn’t really watching, his mind still going over what Nathan had just told him.

There was a cold, almost painful feeling in his chest that was making his stomach churn.

Before he knew, both the girl and his brother were standing right there, and he had to blink a couple of times to pull himself out of his own mind.

“I can see a handsome prince has already woken you up.” Sam joked, looking up a the girl with a quirky smirk, still hanging from the window. “I guess that makes me the dragon that comes to steal you.”

Sam’s heart dropped for a second. His eyes had caught a glimpse of her hands just as he was finishing his last sentence, and it took all his force of will not to let his smile falter. Her knuckles were stained red and purple, heavily bruised in deep contrast with her normal skin. He was aware the palm of her hands would look just as bad.

That must’ve hurt.

But she just smiled back at him, her bright eyes greeting him without words. Always so cheerful.

“Come on out.”

Sam dropped from the window onto the rooftop underneath him and helped the girl down afterwards. Last came Nathan, just as his brother was kneeling down for Y/N to swiftly prep herself on his back.

“Alright, we’re ready to go. Can you manage to climb down on your own?”

“Can I manage…”  Nathan scoffed sarcastically at his brother, raising an eyebrow as he dismissed his words. “Lead the way, I’ll follow.”

And he wasn’t bluffing. They made their way out of the orphanage without an issue, and on the other side of the walls, Sam’s bicycle was still waiting for them.

Of course it was. He never bothered to chain it anywhere, nobody would want to steal the damned thing.

But luckily enough for him, Y/N seemed unbothered by the ancient bike, not once looking at it in a weird way. Not even when she sat on it and it let out a long creaking sound, almost a whine of complaint.

“We can’t all ride this, it’s going to disintegrate mid-way to the bowling alley.” Nathan mocked, staring at the bicycle in disappointment.

“Sure we can. She can take the seat, and you can go on the back rack like always. I’ll just pedal, no need to sit down for that.”

After much complaining and reluctant groaning, Nathan finally agreed to Sam’s plan and they all ended up fitting on the rickety bicycle. But only just.

They must’ve been a sight to be seen as they traversed the streets of Boston riding that thing. Sam did notice a couple of heads turning their way. He also noticed how much harder it was to push the bicycle forward now with the extra weight. It had him panting by the time they got to the bowling alley.

To add insult to injury, upon arriving  they found the place was shut.

“We’re working on improving our facilities. We’ll be back to usual business next month. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Sam sighed while reading the sign plastered all over the door, leaning on the bicycle’s handlebar. He let his head hang for a second , getting his breath back and internally cursing for failing this hard. Today was certainly not his lucky day.

“Sorry guys.” He apologized with a sad note in his voice, turning around to look at the two sitting on the bike behind him. “I had no idea it would be shut.” Sam did notice the way Nathan was staring at the closed down building with the same disappointed expression kids get when they don’t receive the toys they wanted on Christmas morning. He would’ve been lying to say it didn’t make his heart sink immediately.

Then he felt a couple of pats on his back. Y/ N was calling for him. He noticed she was trying to point his attention towards a spot on his right, so he followed the direction of her arm, and the place where her index finger was signaling. It was one of Boston’s parks. Not the nearest one to their current position, but one of the biggest nonetheless, so it could be easily seen from there. Arnold Arboretum, it was called. He’d been there a couple of times, mostly because it had a lot of low hanging trees where you can easily avoid being spotted. Useful when you’re trying to snog a girl and not be interrupted.

His eyes went back to meet hers once more, eyebrows raising with curiosity.

“You wanna go to the park?” Sam considered the possibility, finding it a decent backup plan. “Whaddaya say Nathan?” Leaning a bit to the left he laid his stare on his little brother.

“Don’t they have that guy who goes around the park with that old cotton candy machine there?”

“Yeah that’s the one. He makes it in pink, blue, and yellow colors.”

Nathan’s eyes seemed to grow wider, near sparkling when he heard Sam’s words and a little smile made its way to his lips.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. We should check it out.”

A heavy weight seemed to lift off Sam’s chest as soon as he noticed Nathan’s excitement. It would take a while of pedaling to get there. Surely he’d be exhausted by the time they reached the park, but if this would prevent his little brother and his friend to be disappointed then it worked for him.

As predicted, his legs were **burning** with pain by the time they got there, and being able to finally lay down and rest for a bit felt like a blessing. Sam drew a long, relaxed breath. The soft, cold grass felt heavenly underneath him and for a while they just laid there, all side by side while enjoying the sunlight and the fresh breeze. The bicycle was now left forgotten, set aside next to them.

They’d picked a spot near a little path made of cobblestones, knowing that’s what the cotton candy man used to make his route around the park. And soon enough the sound of wooden wheels rolling over the stones shook them all out of their stupor, like drowsy lizards that have been under the sun for too long.

Nathan was the first one to be back on his feet, springy and excited as he was, he wasted no time before running over to the cotton candy machine. Sam watched him with an amused smile, rummaging around his back pocket in search for some money. He laid a hand out to help Y/N up and walk over to his brother with her, eyeing the variety of colored cotton candy that was on display.

“What can I get you, kids?”  The man asked politely, checking them out from behind the machine. He seemed to be just as old as that vintage looking machine. Sam didn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone wear striped trousers and suspenders.

“I want mine to be blue, please.” Nathan answered immediately, drawing a wide smile while he watched the vendor nod at his request and start pouring a really fine, blue colored sugar inside the machine, which made a rumbling sound and soon after started producing floaty spider webs of cotton candy. He seemed mesmerized.

Sam was internally happy to see him in this state of glee. Life had not given then many opportunities to be kids, with him barely having a childhood himself. So being able to offer his little brother a chance at acting like the little boy he still was did bring him more joy than most things. And all it took was some cotton candy.

“Which one do you want?” He asked the girl beside him with a gentle smile, and she pointed at the yellow, fluffy ball of cotton candy displayed above her head. “Alright, yellow for her and I’ll have pink. Because I’m a man.” Sam chuckled, handing the money over to the old man.

He had to admit, even for a young man like him, watching cotton candy being made was rather entertaining. It had some strange relaxing effect he couldn’t really explain.

His eyes drifted off towards Y/N on his right hand side, his gaze trailing the strands of her hair slightly moved by the pleasant breeze. That blouse she was wearing looked lovely. Navy color. It really did go well with her skin. The fabric on it was so light and thin it was disturbed by the faintest wave of air or delicate move. Rather thin, as well. Sam could swear he could see through it enough to…

His eyes narrowed, looking for the freckles he still did not know if she possessed on her shoulders.

Then he got nudged on his side and he had to tear his gaze away to look at Nathan, who nodded towards the cotton candy that was now being offered to him.

“Oh, sorry. Thanks.” Quickly apologizing he accepted the candy with an almost bashful glance, hoping he had’t left the man hanging for too long.

They soon went back to laying down on their personal spot of grass, the bicycle still laying there as if to mark their territory. As it was to be expected, the cotton candy was delicious, although Sam had always found the way it made his hands sticky rather unpleasant. So he always tried to eat it using nothing but his mouth.

His brother, on the other hand, did not seem to be bothered by this. He’d be licking the sugary remnants from his fingers without a care in the world.

Sam was the first one to finish, and he set aside the wooden stick that once held the pink cloud of candy, prepping himself up on his elbows to gaze  at Y/N next to him. She seemed to be almost done as well, even if she was eating with indulgent parsimony, allowing the strands of sugar to melt fully in her mouth and savoring every last bit.

Rolling to lay on his side and face her, he looked down at the green grass and pulled out a little white flower, no bigger than his fingertip. He placed it distractedly on her hair, locks now spread over the grass in shiny, citrus scented swirls. She didn’t seem to mind, like she never even realised he’d done it. Or if she did, she never reacted to it, just eating away peacefully.

“You know, a kid sneaked a puppy in the orphanage last Wednesday.” Nathan mentioned, still busy with his cotton candy.

Sam never looked at him, but he did hear his brother’s voice. He was plucking another flower from the grass, and gently pinning it to Y/N’s hair when he responded.

“I’m assuming the nuns found out.”

“Oh yes. But he managed to keep it a secret for three whole days. That’s pretty good, if you ask me, considering the inspections and all that.”

Sam hummed softly, agreeing vaguely. He almost wished he could pay more attention to the puppy story, but the soft touch of the girl’s hair against his fingers was distracting, melting his mind away.

There were five little flowers scattered across her hair now.

And he had just found another one to add. This one was pink.

“They called him Connor. It was a little Labrador, with chocolate brown fur. Really nice, and really cute. But so noisy. Sister Catherine found out about it when the thing wouldn’t stop howling one night.”

Sam’s brain had registered none of that.

Ten little flowers adorned the girl’s hair now. He was placing the one that would make eleven when he unknowingly failed to command his hand to retreat, captivated as he was he’d allowed himself to give into leaving a single caress on her cheek. The touch of her skin left a tingly feeling on the back of his fingers.

And then she looked up.

And his eyes met hers as he noticed she was done eating now.

Probably wondering what the hell he was doing to her hair. And her cheek.

Sam froze for a second, wondering why, oh why, he always ended up acting like weirdo around her.

He was about to say something. Whatever. Just something that would somehow excuse him. When Nathan raised his hand towards the sky all of a sudden, a smile spreading across his face. And this made Y/N’s glance shoot up towards the clouds instantly.

“Look! That cloud looks like a turtle!”

 _‘God bless you little brother’_ , he internally sighed in relief.

“Yeah! Well spotted.” Sam chuckled, pointing at the sky himself. “Look, that one looks like an old man. It even has a cane.”

Nathan laughed along with him, his hand shifting once more to point at a different cloud.

“There, a bunny.”

And then Y/N slowly raised her own hand, and they both tried to follow her finger’s trajectory.

“Where?” Sam questioned, his voice turning a bit softer while his eyes searched around for a figure in the sky. So she grabbed his wrist and moved his hand slowly until it was pointing at a certain cloud. “There? Which bit is that?”

Y/N smiled at the sky, touching the top of her head with her fingertips.

“Oh, the head. So it’s a person?”

This time, she shook her head. Nathan was looking at her as well, intrigued.

“An animal!” He guessed, smiling at his older brother. This time she laughed softly, nodding, and slowly deviated Sam’s hand a bit to the right.

“And that… is that the body?” Sam squinted a bit, trying to form an image in his head. The girl squeezed his wrist gently, looking up at him, and he returned her glance and smiled. “That’s a yes.”

“Oh wait I see it! It’s got a tail!”

Now that Nathan had mentioned that, he spotted something else.

“And that’s…is that a mane?” Y/N nodded with a tone of excitement in her eyes this time, her smile widening as they inched closer towards the answer. “Aaaah, it’s a lion!” He laughed, and the other two chuckled along with him as she finally let go of his hand to grant him a little applause.

“Go team!” Nathan joked, sitting up straight to behold the sea of clouds above them for a moment longer. But soon enough the colorful assortment of flowers scattered all over the girl’s hair right next to him caught his attention, and he frowned in confusion. “What have you done to her hair?”

Y/N raised her head a bit, eyes rolling back as they tried to spot whatever it was that Nathan was talking about, and descrying a couple of the flowers pinned to her locks. Sam felt a heat of embarrassment immediately creeping up his cheeks and making the tip of his ears burn.

“Uuuh-…” His mind went blank for a second, not really having an excuse for the whole situation. So instead of answering he drew a playful smile. “You know what?” Pushing himself up to sit up straight, he stretched an arm and poked Nathan on his chest. There was a hint of mischief now shining in his eyes. “Tag! You’re it!”

Nathan blinked in confusion, his jaw dropping slowly while he watched his brother grab Y/N’s wrist and pull her on her feet to then scatter away, running to a safe distance.

“No way! That’s not fair!” He complained in offended shock, quickly standing up to brush the bits of grass off his pants and then start walking towards them.

“Little brother, you’re gonna have to be a bit faster than that if you wanna catch us in this lifetime!” Sam teased him, visibly entertained.

Nathan stopped walking, his eyes locked on him and lips pursed in discontent. He just stood there and looked at his brother with a furrowed brow,  but Sam did nothing but smile wider and bounce a bit on his heels, his voice turning a mocking tone.

“Come on, come on, Nathan. Are you gonna chicken out?”

As soon as his brother started imitating chicken sounds he’d had it. Slowly smiling back at him, Nathan sprinted towards them as fast as he possibly could.

“Alright you’re gonna get it!”

Y/N let out an amused giggle and immediately run away from him, barefoot around the grass since she’d gotten rid of her shoes long ago upon arriving to the park. Sam wasted no time himself, rushing about right next to her.

The air soon became filled with laughs, boasting with joy, as they all run around the place frantically.

Sam knew there was no way his little brother could ever catch him if he wanted it that way, that’s why he’d never run at full speed. And eventually, he’d slow down just enough for Nathan to be able to catch him, without giving away that he was allowing him to do so.

He needn’t know. And he enjoyed seeing the glee of triumph on Nathan’s face when he managed to get his hands on him.

This time however, Nathan seemed to be specially motivated. As soon as he slowed down on the slightest, he caught up with him so fast Sam was almost surprised, jumping on his back like a little savage.

“Alright! You got me! You got me!” Sam laughed out loud, squirming and running around as he struggled to get Nate to drop off his back. “Now let go, you monkey.”

With an accomplished smile and looking rather exultant, Nathan unwrapped his arms from Sam’s neck to then slide off his back, carefully backing away as he kept a vigilant eye on him.

“Tag you’re it.” 

Sam, whose back was now facing him, rubbed the back of his neck and slowly turned around with an evil hum and a purposely predatory look on his eyes. His lips curled up to reveal a sharp smile.

“I’m-…gonna-…getcha!”

A loud squeak came out of Nathan’s mouth before he jolted and sprinted away like the devil himself was coming to claim his soul, so fast he almost tripped on his way to reach Y/N and grab her hand.

“Run, run, run!” He pulled from her almost desperately, and they both run away as fast as their feet would carry them. They were out of breath from laughing and playing around and yet the atmosphere did nothing but growing merrier by the minute.

Nathan’s chest was growing tighter and tighter, he could feel the air burning in his lungs every time he sucked a breath in. He could feel his cheeks becoming increasingly flushed, and the hair on his fringe was starting to stick to his forehead  as it got covered by a thin layer of sweat. He was giving it his best and yet, he could hear his brother stomping closer and closer each passing second. And eventually, he felt Sam’s fingers graze against the flowing fabric of his t-shirt.

In a desperate last resort, Nate jumped as far as the impulse of his running could take him, and ended up tripping and rolling all around the grass with a clumsy, shaky laugh. In his head, that looked worthy of a Hollywood stunt, but he was sure in reality it seemed more like he’d avoided Sam’s grasp in a display of sheer luck.

This meant that his brother had ended up catching the girl instead of him.

Sam wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist with a _‘gotcha!’_ , and basically tackled the girl to the ground, who squealed in surprise.

Y/N fell on her back over the cushioning grass and he landed on top of her, hoping he had not been too rough. His eyes searched for hers, quickly, while his chuckles acquired a light tint of concern.

“You alright? Did I hurt you?”

But he soon realized she was still laughing merrily, her face beaming with mirth. And his worry was soon whisked away by the pleasantly entertained look she was now giving him while shaking her head.

She was perfectly fine.

Sam glared at her cheeks, now turned a rosy color from all the running around, and his fingers brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen on her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear.

He probably ought to move away from her now, since he could feel his mind becoming increasingly entranced by the alluring warmth of Y/N’s body underneath his. It was problematic, the way he seemed to be noticing things that were supposed to be superfluous.

Things he should not be picking up so clearly.

Like the way her chest moved up and down against his with each irregular breath she drew.

And if she breathed in deep enough he could feel her heartbeat, spiked up.

Or how her hipbones were pressed softly against his abdomen.

His chuckling had relented completely, turned into a soft, almost hypnotized smile. Sam’s lips parted, delaying his words for a moment, and when they did come out, he didn’t know why he was whispering.

“Tagged...”

The sunshine was bringing out the color in her eyes, brighter as ever, and he found himself obsessing over how lovely her lashes looked as she bat them at him, unknowing of the swirl of thoughts crossing his mind. But suddenly the sunlight was taken away, blocked by something that took away the colors. And the brightness.

“You’re gross.”

He heard his little brother chuckle, now standing a couple of feet away from them and staring at him with a mix of amusement and malcontent. He’d stood up after regaining his strength, and he seemed to be very much wondering what was he still doing down on the ground. Crushing his friend.

He’d completely forgotten Nathan was there, too.

“You know what else is gross?” Sam retaliated with a smirk, pushing himself up and then offering Y/N a hand to help her back on her feet. “Your face.”

“Screw you.” Nathan smiled wider, making a pause. “Wanna play hide and seek?”

“Fine, you’re the seeker then?”

“Why?” Whined his little brother, arms folding with discontent.

“Come on Nathan, it’s alright. I already promised you long ago not to hide like I did during that one Christmas.”

“I couldn’t find you for two hours! You pried up the floorboards!”

“Ah yeah…” Sam reminisced with a little chuckle, placing a hand flat on his stomach as he let out a nostalgic sigh. “Your face when I popped up. I’ll never forget. So priceless.”

“You promised!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hold onto it. We won’t hide too much, I swear. And when you find us, I’ll be the seeker, alright?”

Sam’s eyebrows raised slowly, his eyes waiting intently for his answer. Finally, Nathan smiled halfway, and nodded in agreement.

“Fine. I’m counting!”

And turning around for his back to face the other two, he started a countdown from forty.

Sam signaled towards the more tree-dense area of the park, where they could find a suitable place to hide, and swiftly made his way there. Then Y/N was quick to follow him suit, disappearing from Nathan’s eyesight.

They scurried away hurriedly, pushing the low tree branches out of their way, with him having to duck often due to the height difference. He had to admit it was a stupid thing to revel in, but Sam did enjoy the rush of adrenaline that hiding still gave him, even when he wasn’t a kid anymore to be finding such enjoyment playing these kind of games. Never mind it was only his little brother he was hiding from.  

Eventually he pushed away the branches of a tall tree, with pretty little purple flowers sprouting from them, and revealed a spacious clearing behind. The low offshoots formed a thick curtain that kept the circular area surrounding the tree trunk fairly untouched by the sunlight. Hence the ground there had sprouted little to no grass, and one could smell the scent of damp earth and fresh tree bark.

Sam stretched his neck, his eyes looking around without hiding that he was surprisingly pleased with that secluded, lovely place. The lilac flowers turned the filtered sunlight a violaceous hue.

“This seems good enough.” He pointed out, his voice still sounding slightly dazzled by the view.

Had she not lacked a voice already, he would have sworn she was also speechless, the sweet smile on her face giving away that she found the sight of that secret spot quite enchanting.

They could still hear Nathan counting down, albeit faintly.

‘…five, four, three, two, one…ready or not here I come!’

Y/N walked over to the tree, her eyes following up the line of the trunk and landing on the very first few branches. She could see the sun glowing through the leaves. She then turned around and leaned against it, her back resting against the rugged bark. She smiled at him, almost mischievously when she noticed Nathan was done counting, and was now out hunting for them. The girl brought up her hand and placed her index finger in front of her lips.

Sam nodded. Now there was only waiting.

He watched the girl just standing there. The filtered light washed over her, surrounding her in a beautiful, glowing aura that made her look almost magical. 

She looked stunning under that violet light.

She looked stunning under any kind of light.

Sam approached her slowly, taking a couple of steps. And then he started feeling like something was missing. There was a cold, empty sensation in his hand.

This was the first time they’d been out together and yet their hands had been apart for the entirety of the day.

Following a sudden urge, his hand searched for hers, warm fingertips brushing tentatively against the back of her fingers. His touch was almost shy. Silently requesting her permission. _Pleading_ to feel.

And her fingers responded forthwith, lacing with his, indulgent. 

His eyes peeked down at their now entwined hands. He noticed, not without a twinge of pain needling his heart, that their bruised knuckles matched each other now. His had not healed completely from that day after the cinema. And hers still had a long way before they would disappear. Sam brushed his thumb against the bruised skin on her hand with tender care at the thought.

He caught a glimpse of her hand as it traveled towards her own chest, her fingers reaching for the golden pendant that still adorned her neck, resting on her with such delicacy one would’ve been excused to think the necklace didn’t believe itself worthy of touching her skin.

Y/N’s fingers stroked the round medallion just once, a touch so tenuous she barely grazed the cold, metallic surface.

She was still wearing it. Somehow this realization made Sam’s heart flutter.

His eyes followed up the natural curve of the neck, and landed on her mouth.

Y/N’s lips parted as she wet them now, the very tip of her tongue peeking through if only for a brief second, leaving behind a glistening trace. Her mouth looked painfully delicious. Soft pink and tempting. Sweet like cotton candy.

Sam let out a shuddering breath, undone, and leaned slightly closer.

The girl’s hand abandoned her chest to rest on his, and for a second Sam felt like perhaps she was trying to put some distance between them, and found the thought unpredictably harrowing.

But then he felt her fingertips pressing a bit harder on him, curious, sliding down to feel the muscle underneath his red t-shirt. For the first time, there was a tinge in her touch that felt less chaste than usual.

Her stare was burning on him, digging so deep in his eyes her glance was like a magnet. And without thinking he leaned closer. And closer still. Until his chest met hers and her back was pressed against the tree, and he felt himself pushing against her so tight he could’ve drawn a map of every curve on the girl’s body.

Before he knew, Sam was close enough that the tip of their noses brushed together, and he tried to ignore how he was growing weak on his knees. Or how his cheeks burned so hot the rush of blood was blurring his eyes.

That was dangerous.

He remembered how he used to shy away internally at the way she would leave his heart pounding against his chest and his whole body trembling with anticipation just by standing near him. But now he’d learnt to crave the rush of blood and the whirlwind of emotions she sprouted in him. He wanted _more_.

Sam felt his breath clash against her lips, mingle with hers. The sole sight of her mouth so close was intoxicating, making his mind swivel.

His breath hitched. He could feel his core aching, longing, yearning.

Dying for a _taste_.

When something hit him in the arm, and he jolted, instantly taking a step back to rub his arm with a complaint.

“Ow! What the f-!” It was a twig that hit him, and a rather large one at that, he’d caught a glimpse of it as it fell to the ground.

“Found you.”

Now standing in front of the curtain of tree branches was Nathan, arms folded. For the kid he was, it was actually remarkable how much he now resembled a disappointed mother about to scold her son for catching him about to eat raw cookie dough.

“Holy shit.” Sam chuckled, arching an eyebrow when his eyes met Nathan’s. “Some aggressive hide n’ seek you’re playing, little brother.”

Nathan sighed and let out an incredulous laugh, gesturing towards Y/N with his hand. “Would you leave her alone?”

“What? We were just hiding.” Sam tried, shrugging the accusation off.

There was a lingering moment of silence during which Nathan locked his eyes on Sam, almost offended that he’d consider him stupid enough to believe that statement, and his brother just smiled with faked innocence.

“Yeah, right.” Scoffing, he walked over to the girl and offered her a hand that she accepted to take with a smile, almost internally  amused with the whole situation. “Come on, it’s your turn to find us.”

“Sure.” Sam walked over to the tree, his lips turning into a thin line as he tried to contain his mischievously guilty expression. He placed an arm over the tree trunk and leaned against it, pressing his forehead against his forearm. “Alright, counting!”

And so started the countdown once more.

It didn’t take Sam long to find them, however good they’d managed to hide. They’d picked a spot behind the bushes next to a gazebo in a rather faraway area. But still he’d managed to sneak up on them like a proficient predator, approaching them from the back so silently they both squeaked in surprise when he’d wrapped an arm around each of their waists and swept them up from the ground with a playful roar. As if he were some kind of fearful predator.

The games went on for a good bunch of hours more, until the sky was darkening and the air grew cold. They played capture the flag, raced against each other from one are of the park to another for no reason other than playful competition, and even found a dog that gleefully greeted them and joined their games for a while. The mutt happened to belong to a lovely lady who sat around on a bench, reading peacefully while she allowed the kids to have fun with her pet.

But all good things must come to an end, and now that the night was falling it was finally time to leave. They walked back to the spot where Sam’s bicycle had been left forgotten for the entirety of the day and found that, of course, it remained there.

Sam was about to pick it up, slightly lost in a thread of thought, when he noticed the way Nathan was shivering while he talked to Y/N next to him, his teeth chattering softly every so often.

“Nathan, c’mere.” He called, beckoning him closer with a hand gesture. His brother approached him with short steps and his arms wrapped around his body. It was easy to see his hairs standing on end all over the exposed skin on his arms. “You forgot to take your jacket again huh?”

With a smirk that was full of brotherly love, Sam stripped of his jacket and draped it over Nathan’s shoulder, prompting a thankful and slightly apologetic smile from his younger brother.

“Thanks Sam.”

“No problem.”

But instead of backing off, Sam leaned a bit closer to Nathan, adjusting the collar of the jacket for no real reason while his eyes averted their gaze distractedly.

“I gotta ask you a favor little brother.”

Nathan heard him whisper so faintly it would’ve been hard to notice he was even speaking from any further away than he was.

“What?” He was increasingly confused to say the least, frowning at Sam’s sudden request.

“When I go and pick up the bike, I need you to say you’re really tired and you wanna go back home and sleep.”

Nathan’s eyes flickered with utter disbelief. He wasn’t even remotely sleepy. In fact, he had hoped they would go around the city for a bit longer, maybe stop by Lisa’s diner and have a milkshake.

“What? No!”

If they kept on whispering like this for much longer, surely the girl would notice.

“Please Nathan.” Sam bit his lower lip with a begging smile, his eyes now shooting up to search for his brother’s. “I need to take her somewhere, okay? I wanna do something nice  in exchange for what she did this morning.”

Only then did Nathan remember the fight from earlier. And sister Agnes. And the ruler. And the bruises. And his expression turned a faint shade of sorrow.

“But-…” He whispered a protest, but Sam soon interrupted his future complaining by making display of his best puppy eyes and immediately whining.

“Please, please, please, please, please, plea-“

“Alright, okay! Okay…” Nathan finally gave in, and rolled his eyes at the smile of instant happiness that had sprouted over his brother’s lips. “You owe me some caramel popcorn.”

“Deal.”

Sam straightened up once more with casual demeanor, patting Nathan’s shoulder before walking back towards the bike to pull it up from the ground and dust off some of the grass now stuck to it. He noticed Y/N was gazing up at the now starry sky, seemingly never noticing the conversation that had taken place in secrecy, and was internally relieved.

Alright troupe.” Sam patted the bicycle’s seat, indicating for them to come over. “Where to next?”

Y/N was the first one to approach their ride, swiftly prepping herself on the seat and placing her hands on the handlebar, leaning forward as she stared at them. All the while, Sam made sure to hold the bicycle tight, so that it wouldn’t tumble over.

Making the best use he could of his acting skills, Nathan pulled off what he felt like it was an adequate sleepy face, and took a couple of tired steps towards them, feet dragging against the grass with the motion.

“Uhm, Sam?” He whispered in a tender, almost guilty voice.

“Yes Nathan?”

Rubbing one of his eyes, Nathan let out a soft yawn before continuing.

“I’m really, really tired… if you guys don’t mind, can you take me home before you go anywhere else? I really need to go to bed.”

Sam found his brother’s whining request so convincing he almost believed that Nathan was truly exhausted himself. His gaze veered right to look at the girl, who gave him an understanding smile and nodded a couple of times.

“Sure.” He finally nodded, watching Nathan walk over to the bicycle to jump on the back rack and grab onto Y/N’s blouse for balance. “Let’s get you back home, sleepyhead.”

And while Sam adjusted himself on the bike to ride back once more, he couldn’t repress a little triumphant grin now that they could not spot the gesture.

Success.

The ride back to the orphanage seemed shorter now, and colder. Sam could feel the cool air bite at his skin now that he didn’t benefit from the protection of his denim jacket, and he shuddered slightly, trying to ignore the feeling.

One they’d arrived to the orphanage’s tall iron gate that served as the entrance, Nathan hopped off the bike and removed his brother’s jacket from his shoulders, handing it over to him. But Sam signaled Y/N with a gesture of his head, so he offered it to the girl instead who accepted the gesture with a thankful smile, since there was nothing relieving the sensation of cold for her either, other than her thin blouse.

Sam’s jacket was warm, and considerably over-sized for her. But it made her feel cozy and protected the instant she’d drape it over her shoulders.

“Can you get back on your own from here?” Sam question with a hint of concern, frowning up towards the window that would be Nathan’s destination.

But his brother smiled with confidence, getting closer to give him a hug as a goodnight gesture.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Be careful out there.” Nathan requested, seeing how Y/N leaned over now, exposing one side of her face with a smile. And he let out a bashful, brief smile before placing a little kiss on the girl’s cheek. “Goodnight.” He said to her while backing away, waving them goodbye as he watched them ride into the now bleak streets that surrounded the Orphanage.

He’d just decided his big brother owed him two packs of caramel popcorn.

***

Somewhere along the way they had switched their places on the bicycle.

Since Y/N was light enough to ride on the back rack, Sam could now, for the first time in the whole day, sit down while he pedaled through the city.

There was a place he wanted to show her, even if it was a bit out of their way. Still, he wouldn’t deny he was enjoying the ride. Specially the way the girl would wrap her arms around his waist to ensure she wouldn’t fall. So whatever time would take them to get there did not bother him on the slightest.

They were crossing over a bridge on their way to the other side of the river, when the distant sound of faint music carried by the air seeped its way into Sam’s ears. The bicycle stopped moving, its wheels whining against the pavement with a dry rumble when he hit the brakes. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked. Sam’s neck stretched out and his chin raised slightly, with his eyes fixed somewhere uncertain in the distance. Like a sniffer dog whose just caught an interesting scent. “It’s music, right?” Squinting slightly, he drew an increasingly wider and more excited smile. 

He turned around to exchange a look with Y/N, who nodded in agreement, and Sam immediately got on his way, perhaps a bit too fast. But the streets were relatively empty at that time, making traversing around the city at such speed quite a bit safer. 

Y/N could feel the air hitting her face, cold, and fast. She kept her arms tightly wrapped around Sam, somewhat uneasy at the thought of slipping off and ending up on the ground if they rode over some bump.

Sam followed the distant sound of music, that slowly became clearer and louder the closer he got, and it ended up leading him to a wide street. Traffic had been cut off there, and he recognized the building on his right. It was tall, with a marble-like dome, and Sam knew all kinds of social events where always being held there. But this time the music, along with some colored flashes of light every once in a while, seemed to be coming from the exterior. The place had a large garden out back, and by the looks of it, it had now been closed off. Tall fences prevented them from seeing any further or getting inside. 

“Sounds like some kind of-...” Sam started, leaning back on the bicycle’s seat with a pensive frown. “-music festival.” He could see a couple of guards further along, near the entrance, where people now queued to hand in their tickets to the show. The boy gnawed on his lower lip, thinking.

“Wanna go see the concert?” He finally asked her, earning a confused frown from Y/N, whose eyes traveled towards the front gate and the crowd of people with their tickets. “Oh, no, I don’t have any money left.” Sam answered her silent question with a chuckle, shrugging it off to take importance out of the fact. “We’ll sneak in.”

The girl’s eyes turned wide, almost like a warning. There was an expression of uncertainty spreading across her face this time.

“We won’t get caught, I swear. Come on, it’ll be fun.” He nudged her a bit more towards the idea, and accompanied his words with a wink. She seemed to consider it for a hot minute, lips pursing and tilting slightly, not sure. But then the girl smiled a bit, slowly, and finally nodded at Sam’s words.

That was everything he needed. Turning the bike around and riding away from the main entrance, he approached the fence on an area that was slightly more shielded from everyone’s sight. There were a couple of bushes there, and Sam decided to leave his bike behind them, in case they ended up needing to bolt away at some point.

“Alright, we do it as usual now.” Sam whispered, giving her a quick look before bending the knee for her to go on his back. She was swift to do her part and wrap her arms around his neck, allowing him to pick her up.

“Here we go...”

Sam was instantly relieved that those were  thick, wooden fences, presenting the logo of the music festival all over. Had they been wire fences they couldn’t have pulled this off. 

He climbed over and when they landed on the other side, they noticed they’d showed up behind some kind of tent, striped in colors red and navy blue. There was a smell of cooking food, and the sizzling sound of frying meat was being drowned by the loud music. As they walked around, it was clear that those tents were little shops, some selling meals, some others selling drinks. The stage stood right in front of them. 

There was a wide smile spreading across Sam’s face at the sight. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and they left the safety of their hiding spot to walk away from the tents with pretended nonchalance. After all it had to seem like they’d paid for their tickets just like everyone else. Even if they weren’t sporting the colored wristbands that confirmed the fact, and everyone other attendee was wearing.

There was a thick crowd of people right in front of the stage, and they were all singing or jumping to the rhythm of a song that Sam recognized to be _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ by _Nirvana_. It was pretty new, so he did not know the full lyrics. The band playing was doing a decent enough job with it, he thought.

As they approached the scene and the magnitude of that crowd and the size of the stage started to become more clear, Sam had the strange feeling of becoming smaller and smaller with every step he took. The music was loud. He could feel the drums booming in the air, pounding inside his chest along with the beating of his heart. The colored lights being cast over them from the lighting on stage blinded him every so often, flashing his eyes for that fraction of a second and making him squint. For some reason Sam started to get the weird sensation that time had slowed down if only slightly, feeling his own steps slow and heavy. His sneakers squeaked against the damp grass where someone had previously spilled a drink.

The song was on its last few verses.

“Here we are now, entertain us...” He mouthed, knowing his voice would be completely cancelled by the music. He felt a squeeze on his hand, and blinked to unglue his eyes from the scene that had him almost hypnotized, gazing down at Y/N. She wasn’t calling for him, but holding tighter out of excitement instead, her eyes opened wide and beaming. Ecstatic. Even when she must’ve barely been able to see the stage due to her size and the wall of people towering over her. 

A sudden wave of applause roared throughout the air as the song finished, and the band got ready for the next one. This cleared the crowd slightly, with people taking this second to gain their breaths back and chat. And Sam saw the perfect opportunity to get closer to the stage, so he started squeezing his way through the masses, dragging Y/N behind him, until it became impossible to get any closer due to how thick the conglomeration of listeners was anywhere nearer. At least they were around the center now.

Then the next song started playing, and everyone cheered at once, a round of applause engulfing the sound of the instruments once more for a brief moment. Sam knew this one too, _God Gave Rock ‘N’ Roll To You._ A thrilled smile curled his lips. 

“This is one of my favorites.” He leaned in to say near the girl’s ear to ensure she would hear him. And she smiled back at him without containing her delight, going on her tip toes and stretching her body in a futile attempt to try and peer over the mob before her. 

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, thinking as he saw her struggle, and then looked around.

“Hey, Y/N!” 

Letting go of her hand, he knelt down on one knee behind her and slipped his head between the girl’s thighs, placing a hand on her knee and gripping tight to keep her in place without letting go of her hand. He pushed himself back up on his feet, with her now sitting on his shoulders. The gesture had taken Y/N by surprise at first and he heard her yelp in shock at first. But she’d soon noticed what his intentions were, and went onto grabbing his hand tighter for the sake of balance.

“See any better now?” Sam laughed, raising his head to look at her, and she returned a little giggle from above. 

She was as light as a feather for him, and it wasn’t a straining task to keep her seated on his shoulders. 

And now he couldn’t stop smiling. His eyes were stuck on her, unfazed by the alluring flashes of light, by the music filling the cold air, by the crowd waving their hands in the air around them.

Everything blurred out. Everything except for Y/N. His mind refusing to acknowledge anything that wasn’t her, and the way her smile made her shine with the light of a thousand suns.

The way her legs felt warm around him. 

The way his jacket looked too big on her, yet impossibly lovely.

The way the lights before them glowed in her eyes like the stars in a summer night. She wouldn’t flinch at the flashes either, not wanting to miss a thing, and taking in the moment with such zeal one would’ve been tempted to think she was the happiest girl alive. She was content. 

Right then and there, while the rhythm beat in his chest, and his feet grew heavy on the ground, and his hand would rather fall off his arm than renounce the touch of hers, nothing else mattered.

There was no orphanage. No bruises. No grief.

And then, Sam could hear the music.

Not the one coming from the band playing right in front of them, however. It was a different kind of music. A hidden melody. A soft murmur. A symphony only a heart could produce. 

Her heart. 

With no voice to aid it, it could still sing the sweetest of melodies, one that Sam couldn’t help but sway to. 

Like a mouse following blindly the notes coming out of the flute against the lips of the pied piper. 

***

They were never able to stay and see how the music festival ended. They had to hurry away just as the last band was setting foot on the stage, leaving behind the risk of being caught without an entry ticket for good measure.

Now, Sam’s feet dangled freely in the air, too far off the ground to be safe. 

The girl, sitting beside him, seemed pleased with the view, scouting the high tops of the buildings before them. Boston looked beautiful at night. 

That place that Sam had been meaning to take her to, turned out to be a faraway billboard near the outskirts of the city. Large enough for its placement to be clever, rather than careless, even when it stood in such a recondite little spot. 

As of right now, they were both sitting on the metal platform right below the gargantuan advertisement picture. It was a brand that sold teeth-strengthening dog treats, and it depicted a mutt with a perfect denture surrounded by a nondescript lilac background.

Sam had instinctively brushed his tongue across his own teeth the first time he’d seen it.

They were sitting quietly, a silence only broken by the breeze making the leaves on the treetops rustle, and the faint yet constant chime of crickets. 

Silence was never wearisome with her. And yet, this time, there was so much he wished to say. 

When he first met Y/N, he would’ve described the feeling as a bubbling curiosity. One caused both by her permanent silence and the beautiful aura that surrounded her. There was something about her that intrigued him to no end.

But he’d let that curiosity bubble for too long, until it reached a rolling boil that caused him to grow tempted to steal a touch of her skin. A sip of her warmth. A hint of her scent. And he’d foolishly indulged in those wishes once he’d learnt that the girl never once tried to stop him as he grew closer to her.

This was all his fault. He had nobody but himself to blame for the way he’d caused the boiling sensation to simmer into something else entirely. 

Because now... now it felt like _falling_. 

Falling at the speed of sound. Too fast, too confusing, too inevitable. 

Too scary. 

Too risky.

Sam examined the sole of his sneakers with pretended distraction, while the thoughts piled up in his mind. His eyes looked back down at the grass far below them.

Falling off the billboard and breaking every bone in his body would hurt less than falling _this_ way. Breaking _this_ way. 

“Y/N?” His voice turned out to be slightly gone, probably due to the amount of time he’d spent without uttering a word. “I uhm-” 

He turned his head towards her to discover she was already staring at him, illuminated by nothing but the lights on the billboard above them. Her hair flowed gently, tangled in a tender dance with the breeze and Sam found a hidden joy at the sight, entranced for a second. So failing to notice the way in which Y/N gazed at the air stirring up the longer strands of his fringe, too. 

“I wanted to thank you.” 

Her eyes shifted back to his, a glance held in a moment as fragile as a newborn’s breath. 

 _And it felt like falling_.

“What you did for my brother this morning-” Sam’s hand scooped hers up lightly, feeling the warmth from her palm onto his fingertips. Her knuckles remained splashed with tones of mauve and red. Her skin was too beautiful a color to be stained this way. “-you didn’t have to.” 

The girl protested with her eyes, leaning  slightly closer , but he raised his other hand gently, requesting for her to listen for a moment longer.

“And even though I hate to see you hurt... I still want to thank you. Because I understand.” Her hand gripped a bit tighter on his, her stare gained a gleam of intensity. “I would’ve done the same. But I am supposed to protect him, it is my job. My responsibility.”

The words hanged above him for a brief instant, and Sam’s lips sucked in a cold breath. 

“It’s not yours... but you still did it. For him.” He lifted her hand a tad more, pulling it closer to himself until it hanged in front of his mouth, and then he pressed a soft kiss over the bruised skin. Sam noticed he had not been able to do this while staring back into her eyes, his glance now fixed somewhere in kingdom come. “Thank you for being there when I can’t.” 

His lips brushed against her skin with each whispered word. Y/N’s fingers moved a bit, a measured gesture, and the back of them brushed tenderly against his cheek, nearing the corner of his mouth. 

 _And it felt like falling_.

Her hand moved once more, freeing itself from Sam’s fingers, and went onto cupping his cheek. He felt her turn his head back towards her, dissatisfied perhaps with the way his eyes peered at her from their corners, almost bashful. 

Sam’s heart stopped for a second when she stared intently at his hair once more. It probably looked like a mess now. No wonder it caught her attention. 

He cleared his throat and run his fingers through it in a vague attempt to look more presentable, but that only made her focus on something else, her bright eyes traveling around his cheeks, and his nose. And the soft curve of his jaw. 

She noticed the new freckles that had sprouted there in the past month, product of spending too much time under the sunlight. Sam sighed when he felt her thumb lay a caress on his temple, feeling unworthy of the touch. He couldn’t pretend he was like her. His freckles weren’t lovely and elegant. They weren’t scattered carefully, in an almost seemingly forethought manner. 

But he had no time to worry about his freckles anymore, not with the way Y/N’s stare was burning on his mouth now. Sam realized she was inching closer, albeit painfully slow, her thumb allowing now a single brush against his lips. 

And he shuddered in anticipation the second before a sudden cold sweat run up and down his spine. Because there was no way she’d want to kiss him. Suddenly the towering billboard felt like a great scale mock, as he tried to find a single reason why the girl would want a taste of his lips when they conveyed teeth like his. Sam raised a hand and covered his mouth slowly. Best if she didn’t see. Chipped, crooked. Broken. 

Fitting for him, really. Crooked. Broken. 

Somewhat wrong. Somewhat deviant. 

He felt his heart sink at the thought. He wasn’t good enough for her. 

Perhaps he wasn’t good for her at all. 

Y/N, however, wasn’t leaning away from him. And her eyes had grown slightly worried, a sweet kind of shade of concern. It occurred to Sam that perhaps she’d noticed the turmoil inside his head. It was hard to hide thoughts and feelings from someone so used to understanding without the need for words. 

In her permanent silence, the girl smiled softly at him, and pulling him closer placed a kiss on his cheek. Right on top of a couple of freckles. Sam felt the clashing contrast of her warm lips against his skin, turned cold by the night air. A gesture that whispered mute tender words by itself, and was as reassuring as it was needed. It made his whole body relax gradually, barely having realized how tense he was in the first place. 

Her hand retreated when she scooted closer to him, and wrapped an arm around his waist to lean her head against his shoulder, taking in the view. And Sam returned the embrace, pulling her closer himself. Both because he yearned the comfort her proximity brought him, and because he needed someone, something, to hold onto. 

Sam was far from understanding where all of these thoughts had stemmed from. He’d never had a care in the world for such things before. If a girl didn’t like his hair, she could surely manage without looking at it. He’d barely ever acknowledged the existence of marks on his skin. And if his teeth were reason enough for someone to deny him a kiss, he would find other lips to taste. 

But not with Y/N. Perhaps he wanted but to be for her the dream she was for him. 

He trembled slightly in her arms, but it wasn’t because of the cold. 

_If this was how it felt to fall in love, then he could but wish she would catch him._


	4. The Heat Of The Moment

The last time he kissed a girl the temperature was hot. 

The last time he kissed a girl feels like an eternity away because the girl in his mind should stop licking her lips silently. Stop batting her lashes at him.

Y/N’s blouse is half open. She hums with a kind of untainted temptation. The girl touches her body to suggest he cannot. Her eyes make him tremble with their beautiful vacant hue. Weak in the knees. A hand pressed flat against the wet, tiled wall. 

Sam thinks about whether Y/N ever thinks about him the way he is thinking about her now.

Does she know she is binding him up like a thread around a finger? 

He wants her to know exactly how. He wants her to know that he’s standing in the shower, panting under the warm stream of water, drowning in the thought of her, weak from the steam’s heat that swirls inside his lungs. Calling her name blindly. 

The strokes of his own hand give him release from everything except the thoughts he devotes to her at all hours of the day. Willingly as well as unwillingly. 

She’d crawled her way into his heart, and she refused to let go. Crowned queen of the halls of his mind. Her image, touch and scent etched in Sam’s mind without remorse nor remedy. And still, he loved every second that she ruled inside his head.

\---

He found it was immensely easier to think once his teenage brain wasn’t swimming around in an ocean of hormones and built up lust. But once the clarity of mind came back, so did the immediate embarrassment and downing feeling that there was a certain something getting out of hand.

No, he definitely did not want her knowing the way he thought about her. Sam wasn’t even sure he wanted her to know about the way he felt around her at all. For not even he knew exactly how that was, either. He’d never been in love before to be able to recognize the feeling as such.

Or perhaps he did know. Perhaps he was perfectly aware that he’d fallen hopelessly in love with the girl, but the painful truth was that he wasn’t sure his feelings would ever be reciprocated.

Ever since the last time he saw her, about a week ago now, everything had been a confusing turmoil of feelings spiraling out of control inside of him.

 _‘Slow your roll, chief.’_ The voice in Sam’s head promptly scolded as he stood in front of the fogged up mirror in the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist. He hung his head for a moment, taking a deep breath. _‘If you rush in and she slams the door shut in your face, it’ll feel like kicking your soul in the nuts.’_ For some reason, the feeling of heat flowing through his entire body had not relented. He almost felt a bit nauseous.

“She’s just a friend.” He muttered to himself, voicing his thoughts this time as to make them easier to process. Or perhaps it was simply a leeway towards convincing himself of his own words.

He decided not to give it any more thought. After all, the fact that she set off fireworks in his heart and his pants didn’t mean that he caused the same reaction on her. In fact, she was always fairly collected around him, which made him think she wasn’t interested in him in that way.

“Just a friend.” He repeated, pushing the intrusive thoughts out of his mind.

Sam slipped into his red and white Henley sweater, put on his jeans, tied up his sneakers and threw on his denim jacket before leaving his motel room. As soon as he stepped outside, he felt the cold of the quickly approaching winter nipping on his skin and he shuddered, feeling a bit lightheaded. He had a headache, and he wondered if it was the product of the amount of steam he’d been subjected to during his shower.

This was the first time Sam had decided to swing by the orphanage without previously arranging to meet up with either Nathan or Y/N ever since he’d met the girl. But he figured they would be free, and he’d been working hard the day before, so he felt he was due a free day.

Or one could simply say that every last bit in him was dying to see the girl again.

Cycling to the orphanage made the trip there fairly short. By the time he was standing on the rooftop near the bedroom window, he was panting his lungs out, deeply flushed. He could even feel a bead of sweat rolling down his right temple.

Getting up there was always tiring, mind you, but this reaction was abnormal in him. He wasn’t tired, he was _exhausted_ , and his light headache had become a thumping pain rattling inside his skull by now.

His heavy breathing must’ve been audible from afar, because Y/N’s head showed through the window soon enough, curiously checking the outdoors. As soon as she spotted him, she drew a little smile, and prepped herself on the window ledge to then drop down and walk up to him. It didn’t take long for her to notice something was wrong.

“Hey.” Sam said, a faint wave of a hand serving as his greeting. She frowned slowly, her eyes traveling through his red cheeks and the thin layer of sweat that covered his forehead.

The girl stretched a hand to place it softly against his forehead, the back of her fingers now pressed against his skin.

He noticed the bruises that were once scattered around her knuckles were now mostly gone. The next thing he noticed was the way her eyes widened at the touch. Her expression spoke loudly. ‘You’re boiling up.’, it said.

“Yeah my head is a little vague.” Sam admitted as her hand retreated, and then he wiped off the sweat with the sleeve of his jacket.  “But I’m fine. Really.”

Not really.

***

The door swung open lazily, and Sam strolled into the motel room with dragged steps and a rather heavy breathing that was nonetheless slow. He immediately made his way towards the couch and slumped on it, the cushions making a muffled sound, whining beneath the weight of his body.

Y/N hung her coat and was the one to close the door behind them. She walked around the couch, a hand brushing along the back of it, to the kneel right beside him and examine him with critical eyes. She was worried, he could sense it in her. And this time he wouldn’t argue with her sentiment, because he did feel dreadful.

She placed a hand over his skin once more, his right cheek this time, the left one being pressed against the cushions. For a second Sam was tempted to close his eyes and allow himself to enjoy her touch. Her hands were cold, product of the weather outside, and perhaps had it been a different situation the contact would’ve been off-putting , but not right now. He felt like he was burning inside out, a boiling heat sprawling from deep inside, making him dizzy, and he could but bask in the cooling sensation of her skin against his. His fever was getting worse.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered between long breaths, his eyes now closed having succumbed to his previous moment of temptation, her touch too inviting. "It wasn’t this bad earlier, I must’ve gotten worse somehow.”

Y/N pulled her hand away and he pleaded internally for her to return it.

There was no denying it now, he was ill. Must’ve caught a bad cold the day before. He should’ve worn more than a long sleeved sweater when he went out working the previous wintry night but he hadn’t foreseen the bitter cold.

The girl smiled, a hint of understanding clear in her eyes. He saw her stand up and walk away once more towards what he felt was the kitchen, or rather, kitchenette, attached to the corner of the ample living room. But he made no efforts to turn his head around to confirm the fact. His eyes hurt, and the pain reminded him of the burning sensation he used to get in his eyes whenever he’d spend too much time watching TV. Sam felt his eyelids growing increasingly heavy, his sight tired and strained.

Before he knew, he’d closed his eyes and passed out on the couch for a moment, his body forcing him to shut down for a second while it tried to catch up and cope with the sudden sickness. He was awakened by Y/N lightly shaking his shoulder, and a faint scent of citrus that now floated in the air. He was a mess. Laying completely limp on the couch, not a single muscle in his body willing to pull up the weight of his aching bones.

Ah, a new symptom, he noticed. Every single bone in his body was hurting. He remembered a trip to the mountain with his mother, long ago. They’d gone skiing while his father worked, just the three of them, for a weekend. The first time he’d touched the snow, and the cold that stung his fingers when he held a snowball with naked hands, seeping into his bones. It felt the same way now.

Y/N helped him up, because it was clear as day that Sam wasn’t going to muster sitting up on his own, his force of will completely gone.

He sighed long, blinked a couple of times as if adjusting to simply existing, and then run his fingers through his hair languidly. The locks on his fringe, now ruffled up, pointed every which way. His mind felt boggled, like his brain weighted a tonne inside his skull, and the already present headache had gone from sharp stinging pain to slow, pulsing nightmare.

The girl sat right next to him, and only then did he notice she was offering him something. It was a drink.

Sam took it from her hands with weak gestures, but gave her a sweet little smile. The mug had heated up, giving away that whatever the content, it was near boiling. He inched  it closer to his mouth, and upon drawing a breath he noticed hints of lemon and honey. Taking a long sip, Sam closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a delighted sound. It was heavenly. The drinking equivalent of slipping into a warm bath.

And while the hot, sweet and citric drink traveled down his throat, a balmy, familiar and yet forgotten feeling of safety started spreading through his chest. Sam stared down at the amber colored surface of the contents in his mug, watching swirls of steam come off it, and he smiled. Y/N perceived right away a twinge of sadness in Sam’s expression.

“Thanks.” He first whispered, and the word floated in the air for a second, hinting that he still had something else to add. She nodded nonetheless, smiling back at him. “You know… my mom used to make something like this whenever I would get sick.”

She understood now the nature of his sorrow tarnished smile. She let him finish.

“Or whenever Nathan would catch a cold, which happened more often.” His head turned now, to stare back at her. His expression had not changed yet, still stuck in that mournful look. “She’d brew half an onion with some lemon and honey. It was great for a sore throat.”

Her smile curved a bit more, acquiring a sympathetic aura.

“I can see you skipped the onion. I probably don’t have any in the kitchen…”

He was rambling now. He knew. He knew that she knew, too. But the light dot of grief that floated around his heart at the smell of citrus and honey had now grown hungry and big in a matter of seconds, clawing inside his chest, making wounds that would never heal bleed again.

He never thought about this. It was better that way. But if he ever got an intrusive thought of this kind, he was sure to brush it off and smile it goodbye. Not this time, thought.

Why not this time?

Sam’s front teeth trapped his bottom lip, quiet now as he stared down at the coffee table in necessary silence. It was a preventive measure, for perhaps due to the high fever, or the aching feeling, or the general weakness, he wasn’t feeling strong enough to hold things back. So he bit down on his lip, lest the bubbling pain inside him started pouring out like a waterfall.

But then he felt Y/N’s touch on his forearm. Only her fingertips at first, as if dubious, but once he returned his glance to her the girl laid her hand on him, gripping softly.

Her eyes were asking, intent on listening. That she did best. So Sam swallowed thickly and smiled once more, still in the same exact manner.

“My mom… her name was Cassandra.” Sam barely muttered, not sure why he’d chosen to state this fact as a start. But Y/N squeezed his arm once more.

‘Go ahead.’ Her look said, silently yet perfectly clear. Or perhaps he was simply getting better at reading the girl’s mind.

“She was great. A great lady…” Great didn’t even being to cut it. Sam drew a shaky breath, wondering why he’d suddenly forgotten how to speak with proper words. And decided to breathe in deep and look for terms that would do the woman justice. “Always so caring, and loving. Candid, y’know?” His eyes drifted towards the coffee table once more, and then back. He noticed there was a stain on the wooden surface, a circle made by the bottom of some cup. Irrelevant. Yet his brain, in increasing distress, chose to notice the smallest details now. Distraction.

“She could be a lot of fun, always looking for new things. New things to learn. New things to do. Experiences and fun little games she would always include me and my brother in. She loved travelling… so eager. But never hot-headed.” Sam smiled a bit more, raising a single eyebrow. Y/N arched both, blinking just once. “Unlike me.”

“Always so patient, I remember that. I was a restless kid. Always making a mess of things.” He laughed ever so lightly now, his look distant for a second while he remembered. “Once I doodled a bunch of stuff all over the bedroom walls. And I mean _all_ over.”

She laughed lightly, entertained by the thought, and the sound of her voice gave him a feeling of warmth akin to the one he experienced while drinking the sweet beverage he now held between his hands.

“To say that my father wasn’t happy would be putting it lightly.” His voice became somewhat smaller. And so did he, in her eyes, hunching over ever so slightly.

Y/N frowned, and her eyes darted towards the woolen, old blanket draped over the arm of the couch on her right hand side. She reached for it and retrieved it before unfolding it to throw it over Sam’s shoulders. He was shivering ever so slightly. He probably hadn’t noticed, since it must’ve been a symptom of his high fever.

Sam thanked her yet again, pulling the blanket around him to better wrap himself in it before resuming his anecdote.

“But once he’d stormed off the room, my mom walked in. She took a look at the wall, grabbed a bunch of coloring pens, and then asked me to help her color all the spirals, circles and misshapen animals I’d scribbled all over.” He laughed a little bit, raising the mug in his hands to have another long gulp. The brew was still warm. “It made for a great improvised pen-fresco.”

His joke put a tender smile on Y/N’s face. Her hand had come back to his forearm, resting there, its warmth seeping through his Henley sweater and joining the one that the hot drink provided. But no amount of good memories could manage to drag the bad ones away, for they were much higher in number.

“It wasn’t always good, though.”

Almost a whisper. 

And the girl had to lean a bit closer in order to hear him better.

“She was very ill. Sometimes it was better…sometimes it wasn’t. I’d see her shining like a sun, smiling without a care in the world, and full of life, as much as I’d see her bed-ridden, or rocking herself on the couch when the bad thoughts wouldn’t leave her. Sometimes she wouldn’t eat. Sometimes she couldn’t sleep.”

Sam clenched his jaw and decided to blame his fever for the way his eyes were now watering,

“But despite all that, she would always have a smile for Nathan and me. And most times, it would be genuine.” Y/N squeezed his arm again, a way to tell him she was still there, even when her presence was obvious. But he was thankful nonetheless. It was easy to get lost in feelings like the ones that swarmed his heart now.  

There was a pause. Sam downed the remainder of his drinks but never set the mug aside. He kept it held tightly between his hands, instead. Support. An unconscious gesture, Y/N thought, who tended to notice details like this one with natural ease. He just needed to hold onto something, anything.

The girl’s hand moved to lay on his shoulder now, travelling down along his spine until it stopped right on the small of Sam’s back and he gazed at her. Her eyes were letting him know he need not speak of it if he didn’t want to. If it was too painful.

It was, of course. But he _wanted_ to. For some reason, even after all these years trying to ignore the subject now he felt like he needed to tell her. Perhaps because he’d already opened the can of worms, so he might as well pour its contents out. Every last critter.

“After my mom-” Sam’s fingers grew tighter around the mug, fingertips pressed against the ceramic, sill warm, and Y/N’s hand mirrored the gesture on his back. “After she was gone…” He decided he didn’t like the taste of the word death. “Our dad packed up, took everything we owned and tossed us in the orphanage.”

Eyes narrowing slightly, Sam shifted slightly on the couch, restless. The girl noticed he was still trembling but this time she wasn’t sure it was the fever’s doing. She scooted closer, their legs pressing together. They were close enough now that she could count his freckles.

One, two, three… the one on left side of his nose, which she couldn’t see, but knew it was there.

Her glance followed up the bridge of his nose to land on his eyes. Y/N noticed they were turning watery, a light glisten shining through his lashes.

“I know what they used to say about me…what they still say.” Sam said abruptly, his lips turning into a thin line for a moment. “I used to get punishments all the time. For being rude. For fighting. For sneaking out. For being too problematic. For this, or that. It was always something. The nuns said I was a bad influence for Nathan. But what the fuck did they know, really?”

His voice turned a bit harsh towards the end, a tone of boiling and angry resentment resurfacing now.

“They didn’t know shit. They didn’t know Nathan. And they certainly didn’t know me.”

The last words shook ever so slightly. Y/N noticed she was holding her breath.

“I wasn’t ‘difficult’, I was hurt, and sad, and scared. And a thousand more things I didn’t even know a word for yet 'cause I was a ten year old boy. But they didn’t care 'cause the orphanage turns you into a number. Two hundred orphaned kids and then the lack of parents becomes the norm. There’s a sense of tragedy but it’s so general…your personal pain doesn’t matter. So if you act out you’re kicked out.”

Sam’s head turned slowly, stare locking on hers. She noticed the red undertone on his cheeks, flushed deeply due to the high temperature in his body, and she watched the tears pile up in his eyes, threatening to overflow but not quite daring to. He drew a shaky breath. There was something he wanted to say. Needed to say. His eyes buried deep within hers, and Y/N could feel he was asking for permission.

Permission to finally complain.

She took the mug from him with a soft yet swift gesture, placed it on the coffee table  and replaced the loss by holding his hands in hers, fingers lacing together slowly.

The girl nodded, and Sam clenched his jaw.

“It’s not fair.” His voice was but a spiteful whisper, and her silence along with the intensity with which she returned his gaze made it all the more easy to voice his long hushed pain.

“And I remember-“ He stammered for a second, peering back into the flashing by images of the past. “-Nathan used to ask me ‘When is dad coming back?’. And I didn’t know what to say. I knew the answer. He was never coming back. But how do you explain that to a five year old?”

There was a brief pause.

Sam could feel his hands cold between the girl’s, her fingers comforting but not enough to rid him of pain fully. This wound he thought had turned into a scar years ago he’d now torn open wide, and it bled into his heart, oozing a grief that he’d preferred had remained hidden. He wanted to kick himself for being so careless as to letting her see him in this state. He should’ve never gone visit her that day. Now he felt it was too late, like cycling down a hill with no brakes. And no pedals. And the bicycle’s on fire.  His words wouldn’t stop pouring out, aching for someone to listen.

She’d always listen.

“Eventually I just told him the truth. It was the only way, really. Dad doesn’t care for us. He doesn’t love us. And we’re _never_ going to see him again.” Sam swallowed thickly, and Y/N would’ve sworn the corners of his mouth quivered for a split second. Then he cleared his throat. It felt sore, but much less than before. That drink she’d made for him was working, apparently. “But you’ve got me, I’d tell him. You’ll always have me.”

The girl felt an increasing feeling of pressure in her chest, growing more tangible with each word that left Sam’s mouth. She could feel his pain so palpable it could’ve been her own, and her expression reflected this.

Sam breathed heavily, and her own breathing started to mimic his.

“Y’know the nuns might’ve fed him, given him a bed, a roof over his head. But none of them were there when he’d cry himself to sleep every single night.”

Then it happened. Sam’s voice cracked lightly, and he turned his gaze away from her.

“I was.” This was but a murmur. “Every night. I’d read a book for him, so he’d forget. I’d never sang a lullaby in my life. I didn’t know any. But I’d sing ‘ _Angie’_ for him and that’d put him to sleep.” He smiled for a second, a faint gesture, yet when he turned his eyes back to her a single tear finally refused to be held back any longer and rolled down his flushed cheek. “Though I’m sure I butchered the song every time.”

Y/N smiled too, a knot quickly forming in her throat.

“I’ve cared for him ever since, and always will. But sometimes-” Sam’s lips quivered for a second and he pursed them slowly, feeling the tears burning in his eyes and trying to fight the urge to blink and let them fall. “Sometimes I wonder if my father, wherever he is, knows the weight he put on my shoulders. If he does, I’m sure he doesn’t give a damn anyway.”

She knew well that Sam wasn’t referring to his brother as a burden, but a responsibility. One he’d gladly taken, yet the girl felt it to be all too mighty for a young kid to carry. Let alone for a whole eight years.

Sam felt inevitably selfish complaining about this. He’d never done it before. But now resentment boiled loudly in him, burning in his belly in a way that almost made him nauseous. Or perhaps it was the buzzing, thumping pain on his temples that was making him feel this way.

It’s the little things that count. The measly everyday details are the ones that chip away at one’s soul, slowly but surely, in such a subtle manner one might not fully notice the extent of their damage until it’s already done.

But Sam did notice the damage, he was simply used to ignoring it.

He noticed it in the way he’d yearn for those small details.

Like having someone to pass him the salt at the table. Or hand him the remote control from the other side of the couch. Or perhaps point out the way one of his shoelaces is undone. Zipping up his backpack if he forgets to do it himself before leaving the house. Remind him to wear his jacket if it’s cold outside.

Or simply greeting him when he gets home.

One simple _“hello”_.

_“How was your day?”_

_“How are you feeling?”_

Loneliness. Almost a sickness. It grips at your heart, a cold claw, rough and rigid. The effect turns one’s soul wrought.

Being ill only made the feeling worse.

Attempting to swallow down the lump that had formed in his stomach only developed into a scraping sensation of pain in his throat.

Being ill for him meant having to work all the same, because he needed the money.

Tossing and turning at night because the fever wouldn’t let him sleep.

Walking over to the drugstore to get meds on his own.

It meant aching bones as he laid on the couch without a soothing hand to rub his arm and tell him he’d get better soon.

_Being ill reminded him of his mother because it made her absence palpable._

Sam glanced at Y/N still sitting next to him. His vision was slightly blurry, and he wondered for a moment if it was the fever or the tears causing this. He felt like a whiny brat. He’d always believed complaining solved nothing. It was virtually pointless. Hadn’t he be feeling so ill he probably would’ve never started vomiting his feelings all over the place like this. But there was something in the girl’s eyes that made him feel like complaining was a valid option after all.

And it was a strange concept.

Ever since he’d been made responsible for his little brother he’d set himself a list of personal rules.

No crying, no whining.

Not because he had a problem voicing his feelings. His masculinity was not that fragile.

But because one of them had to stay strong and cool-headed. So Nathan got to do the crying. Let the boy complain till his heart’s content. He deserved it, after all, their lives had been all but fair.

And smile.

A smile could go a long way, and whenever Nathan was feeling down, Sam would smile for the both of them.

 _‘Cry me a river.’_ He scorned himself internally, and Sam rubbed a hand down his face, and then through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N remained silent, of course. Her expression seemed slightly pained, but the look in her eyes could’ve meant anything. And it weighted down heavily in his heart that he might as well have put her off wanting to be around him forever after such display.

“I just-“

But then she placed a soft hand on his arm, and her palm rubbed over the layers of his sweater and the woollen blanket with gentle care. Yet he felt her warmth on his skin as if nothing was separating him from her fingers, perhaps transmitted through the tender hue in her eyes.

He blinked, and a couple of tears rolled down his cheeks without permission. When he let out the air that he’d been holding in his lungs, it came out as something akin towards a sobbing sound.

“I just feel like shit.”

Her eyes narrowed for a split second, a faint smile curving the corners of her mouth, barely showing the dimples that formed on her cheeks. _‘You’re allowed to feel bad.’_ her expression whispered in his mind. Her sole presence was like a soothing balm.

Sam had been forced to sacrifice everything as soon as his father had walked out of the door. His childhood rendered non-existent, he knew what it entailed  having to mature suddenly. He’d gone days without eating so he could put a plate of food in front of Nathan. He’d broken bones and banged his head and chipped his teeth falling off places, so that his little brother could learn how to climb from him, without hurting himself. He didn’t remember the last time he’d received a birthday present. Or a Christmas present. But he’d never skipped buying Nathan one.

He’d done it all with a smile, and a genuine one at that. But when times got harder, and nights grew colder, and his bedroom became silent and empty except for himself, he couldn’t help but to wonder…

“And who’ll care for me?”

Y/N’s eyes flickered, and he noticed he’d said that out loud, lost in the thick nebula of nauseating feelings inside his head. He closed his eyes, and twin tears run down silently again. Sam’s lips quivered ever so slightly.

_It felt like falling._

And then he felt the girl’s hand on his right cheek, turning his head as to make him look back at her. Sam sniffed softly.

A hand. She placed a hand on her chest. _‘Me.’_ It firmly said.

“You will?” Sam whispered, stifling a sob for a moment, his teeth trapping his lower lip once more and a flood of tears that threatened to burst out any minute with it.

Her hand curled slowly into a fist right on top of her heart, and she nodded. There was a fire of conviction in her eyes. Fiercely protective. Fully sincere.

Heartbreakingly beautiful.

**_‘I will.’_ **

No voice, yet Sam almost felt the words echo in the room.

He’d been anticipating the pain that precedes all falls and yet this time the pain did not come. Because her hands were soft and willing to catch him.

Sam’s eyes travelled from the blanket she’d placed over his shoulders, to the empty mug that sat on his coffee table, and then landed on the hand that cupped his cheek. He smiled faintly. A gesture as brief as the bat of a bird’s wings, and before he could stop himself he was crying.

Not sobbing. Not silent, pearly tears leaving light trails on his cheeks. No. He was bawling. Face buried now in the crook of Y/N’s neck and tears flowing so hard he could feel them seeping through the girl’s shirt, turning it damp at a quick pace.

She never made the slightest attempt to move away. And instead, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and placed a second hand on the back of his neck, where he could feel her thumb brushing lovingly against his skin, running through the short hair there.  

A sharp pain formed quickly in his throat, distinct from when you cry all too much, and yet he couldn’t stop. If only he would’ve looked back at Y/N now he would’ve seen the distress clear in her.

She wished she could take his pain away. Heal the hurt with tender words. And her heart ached, stricken with a twinge of pain at the reality that she could not grant him tender words. Or words at all.

The girl needed not words, for actions speak louder.

Y/N’s hands landed on his cheeks, flushed and damp at the touch, but yet she cupped them all the same and raised his head, forcing him to leave the comfort and safety of her shoulder. He was sure she’d had enough now and was understandably requesting for him to stop crying on her, until he opened his eyes, eyelashes heavy and damp now, just in time to catch a glimpse of the moment when her nose brushed momentarily against his when she leaned closer and trapped his lips in hers.

It took his mind a stuttering moment to catch up.

A kiss.

Wet and stained by the taste of salty tears and yet so heavenly it made him draw the longest of breaths and let out the slowest of sighs.  And it was a far cry from any scenario he’d ever made up in his head, different from any of the admittedly numerous times he’d imagined how he’d kiss her for the first time. But he found himself not wanting to change a thing.

Her taste was sweet, he could feel a hint of honey tempting his tongue to savor it straight from hers, and he knew she must’ve had a spoonful of it while making the drink she offered him before. She had lips so soft the touch of velvet would’ve been jealous, and their brush against his instantly sent a kindled wave through his entire body.

He never thought a kiss could feel so healing. A single gesture and she’d picked up every scattered piece of him and put them back together.

Now it felt like floating. 

For as long as their lips remained pressed together, he almost stopped feeling the couch beneath him such was the weight she’d lifted from his heart.

When she slowly pulled away from him, he wanted to feel sad that the moment ever came to an end. Yet, he couldn’t. He felt nothing but the balmy afterglow her kiss had left inside him. His mind was now silent except for a static buzz left by a now light headache, like distant white noise.

Sam opened his eyes, watching the daylight turning afternoon gold through the windows. The sun washed its amber light on Y/N in a way that made it look like she was glowing, filtering through her hair, casting soft shadows on her face.

He breathed, calm and silent. He felt like he’d forgotten his entire vocabulary, but words weren’t necessary all the same.

The girl wiped away the remains of his tears with her thumbs, erasing the damp trails that stained his cheeks, and then she stood up. Sam watched her take a couple of steps over to the CD player he kept by the TV stand, and sit on the floor right next to it. Her fingers hovered over the spines of the CDs the kept in the TV stand, and he watched the delicacy in her gestures in a mesmerized way.

Y/N pulled out a CD, and he managed to briefly catch a glimpse of the cover. Rolling Stones.

She opened the case, plucked the CD out, and gently pushed it into the CD player.

Sam noticed how she skipped a certain number of songs, and as she pressed the Play button, she turned around slowly to look at him.

The song started to play, filling the room with a very familiar melody, and her lips curled up gently in a smile so sweet it complimented the taste of her mouth. The look in his eyes turned into a mixture of gratitude and the glisten that tears had left behind, and he smiled back.

The song, was “ _Angie”_.

\---

Sam stirred beneath the blankets of his bed. The early and crisp morning light peaked through the windows, lighting up the room. He hadn’t been awakened by this, however, but by the sound and sizzling smell of cooking food. 

As soon as his conscience slipped back into him, he yawned wide and rubbed one of his eyes, his hand then falling limp on the bed beside him. He was still half asleep, caught in that state were you start remembering who and where you are, and attempting to turn your eyelids unstuck and functional once again.

But as soon as the memory of the previous afternoon crept back to him, Sam’s eyes practically sprung open and his breath stilled in his lungs. 

Oh, the embarrassment.

His head turned slowly, as slow as you’d render your movements if you were attempting not to awake a dormant beast, eyes barely peeking through the blankets.

There was a folding screen that separated the kitchen from his bed, adorned with images of different birds in sepia tones, like a loft sort of thing. If lofts were fifteen dollars a night. And smelled slightly of sadness and regret. 

Through the screen he could make out the silhouette of the girl, albeit slightly blurred, cooking on the other side. 

Sam brought the palm of his hand to his forehead, running it down his face while cursing himself through clenched teeth. He remembered everything clearly now. The fever, the lemon and honey drink, the crying, the song playing. How she’d offered to stay the night and had even gone out to the drug store for the sole purpose of bringing him some medicine.

He looked at the packets of pills and the syrup that rested on his night stand. Pills for his headache. Syrup for his throat. And as a result, his fever was now gone, and his throat pain almost entirely, too. Headache was a thing of the past. 

Wishing his bed would swallow him whole like on that _‘Nightmare on Elm Street’_ movie he’d seen as a kid, Sam arrived to the conclusion that he ought to apologize to Y/N for the display of the day before. And thank her, now that he was at it.

With a light groan, he pushed himself out of the bed. He noticed the cold on his feet right away, given that he was wearing no socks, and also realized he’d never changed into sleeping clothes. He was still wearing his Henley sweater from the day before, although his jeans were now discarded, perched on the back of the couch. Sam was used to sleeping in nothing but his underwear.

He placed a hand on the frame of the folding panel, eyes scanning the girl from head to toe, and he took a light breath before clearing his throat.

She turned around immediately, her hair stirred with the motion, and smiled wide at him. The smile he returned could not possibly hide the bashful tints in his expression.

“Morning.” Sam waved faintly with a single hand, and then brought it up to his lips, clearing his throat once again as if to force push the words out of his mouth.

The girl pulled the pan out of the fire, turned off the stove, and spun gently on her heels to face him now, leaning against the kitchen counter. They locked eyes for a moment, and Sam felt his stomach churn.

“Listen-” He started, his smile turning apologetic. “I’m really sorry about yesterday. I’m gonna blame the fever for that one” 

Y/N folded her arms, smile still present. And Sam could swear she almost seemed amused. He laughed lightly, a nervous gesture.

“So how about we do something fun today, without me being a jerk and ruining the day? I was thinking-”

He saw her chin lift slowly, eyes narrowing with interest, and it made him smile with a little more confidence.

“There’s an Ancient Civilizations exhibit at the local museum. Perhaps we could go?” 

Sam had taken a couple of steps towards her as he spoke, and the more he talked the more he got the feeling that she didn’t mind what happened the day before whatsoever. But he still wanted to make it up to her all the same. She’d been so kind as to care for him when he felt like dirt, now it was his turn to repay her.

Leaning away from the counter now, Y/N walked over to him, closing in the distance that parted them before. Her hand moved slowly, and the back of her fingers brushed gently against his forearm, exposed where the sleeve of his sweater had pulled itself up during the night, probably due to his tossing and turning. Fingertips running down his skin, she trailed them over his wrist, and slowly took his hand in hers, palms pressed together while fingers entwined. 

Then, she squeezed lightly, smile growing wider.

Sam breathed out, taken by the sight of her for a brief moment that turn his smile slightly goofy. No matter how much time he spent around the girl, he’d never get rid of the effect she had on him. That seemed fairly clear. 

“Yes.” He interpreted her gesture. “Great. Just one thing, though, uhm-...” 

A frown appeared on her face now, confused. He rolled his eyes slowly, stare travelling through the ceiling while he momentarily rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I don’t have any money for the entry tickets. _But-!_ ” He interrupted, seeing that she was about to complain, lips parting to let out a protest. “We don’t need it. We can wait until dark, and then we’ll sneak in.” 

Sam had nodded with sound confidence, but she seemed more than unsure about this idea of his. He gnawed on his lower lip, his thumb leaving a single, involuntary caress on her hand. 

“It’ll be alright. It’s not like we’re going to rob the place clean. We’ll get in, look around, have some educational fun, and get out. No harm done.” 

There was something in the way he’d present the situation, the tone in his voice almost a careless little laugh, that made the girl feel less uncomfortable about the idea.

“C’mon, we shouldn’t have to pay for education!” Sam grinned, and this owned him a half smile from Y/N. He’d convinced her. He could see it in her eyes. But it was the second squeeze on his hand that confirmed it. 

***

Sam knew how to blend in the shadows with enough expertise, and Y/N was as quiet a person as you could possibly wish for. This is why, after waiting for nightfall and arriving at the museum, they decided to sneak in through the front door.

As reckless as it might’ve sounded to anyone with their heads properly placed on their shoulders, Sam knew it was their best bet. There was no way they’d get inside through the windows without setting off the alarms, all of them being firmly shut from the inside.

Nothing ever happened at the museum. Henceforth, what initially started as a group of four guards, had inexorably been downgraded to a single man patrolling the halls of the national museum at night. They’d been watching for a little while, silently hidden in the bushes that surrounded the place, patient like beasts about to pounce on prey in the dark of the night. 

He’d noticed the guard made five minute smoking breaks in between patrols. So when Sam saw the darkened figure of the man passing by the high windows near the entrance, he nodded for the girl to follow him. 

Their steps mute over the soft grass, they approached the front door and waited for it to open. Once the they hear the wood creak, and it slowly swung to let the guard walk out, they positioned themselves right behind it. 

Sam waited for the man, clad in an all blue security guard uniform that did a poor job at hiding his slightly out of shape figure, to be facing their opposite way. And as he watched him pull out the pack of cigarettes, he held the door open, for merely a second, and they both slipped inside, melting in the shadows.

The guard didn’t even notice the fact that the door took a moment longer to close after him.

Chin raising and eyes staring up to follow the intricate volutes on the columns that held the high ceilings up, Sam felt himself gape slightly at the sight. It had been a long time since the last time he’d visited the museum, and even engulfed in darkness, with nothing but the moonlight to cast silver beams of light here and there through the windows, the place was beautiful through and through.

Y/N was standing in front of an ancient Japanese set of armor, her eyes scanning every little detail on the faded red and black pieces of it. 

Sam stood right next to the girl. The hollow silence in the room enhancing every little sound around them. From every step, to the very beating of their hearts.

“That’s a Japanese scale armor.” He pointed out in a whisper, gesturing briefly towards it to then place both hands on his hips. “Samurai used to wear them. They’re called-” 

She stared at him now, and even in the dim lit atmosphere that surrounded them, he could see that shine of vivid interest in her eyes. Sam squinted briefly, digging through his memory, and finally smiled with a nod.

“G _usoku._ That’s it.”

He couldn’t have noticed, for it was far too dark to be a distinct detail, but a light blush invaded the apples of Y/N’s cheeks for a moment. For Sam, history knowledge was standard. But she knew few people were savant in the matter, specially at a young age. And this admittedly sparked some admiration in her.

They moved through the rooms quicker than they would’ve wanted to, and it was definitely not an ideal visit. But it was certainly better than nothing, and the company made the walk through the museum highly enjoyable. 

At some point their hands had ended up meeting yet again, as if incapable to remain apart for too long. And one would be excused to think that what started as a means to allow for better communication, had now become a tempting habit. For pleasure, not need.

They’d walked around like this for longer than they’d anticipated, making sure to keep a sharp ear in case they ever heard the echoing footsteps of the guard. But not even that could prevent them from enjoying themselves. Sam had shared as much knowledge as he had at his disposal, pointing out details or explaining facts about the items exhibited around the museum. And Y/N had listened intently, seeming to thoroughly enjoy the whole scenario, which only prompted him to talk for even longer.

More than once he’d thought he might be boring her out of her mind, but a quick look at the girl’s gleaming expression of interest had quickly corrected him every time. She loved it. And so did he. 

Damn it all. He was smitten to no end. 

They were now standing in an ample squared room, full of ceramic relics and ancient vases of varying craftsmanship, most of them protected behind glass cabinets. Only a bunch of the lot remained uncovered, for everyone to take in the beautiful details showcased on them. Sam had identified the great majority of them as being of Greek origin.

And yet, even in a room full of historical treasures, he was too busy memorizing the beautiful details of her profile to pay any kind of attention to his surroundings. 

Why did he find the gentle curve on the bridge of her nose so excruciatingly beautiful? He was tempted to think he might be running a fever again.

But it was not the case. This was a condition of an entirely different kind. And one that you cannot heal with pills, and syrups and honey sweet drinks.

Sam pulled on her hand, softly. A bold move, to call her without words, but perhaps he unconsciously craved the physical interaction. Y/N tore her gaze away from the vase she was scrutinizing, to lay it on him.

“I’ve got a couple more facts.” Sam whispered, and the echo faintly whispered his words back. 

The girl smiled, taking a step closer and offering her full attention. He was angry at the shadows for obscuring such a lovely face, for in the darkness her freckles were hidden.

“First, that vase you’re looking at is Greek, and the inscription on it narrates the tale of the gorgons.” 

Her head tilted, intrigued. Sam’s eyes caught the sight of something that shimmered in the darkness for a brief moment. 

It was the golden medallion he’d gifted her.

“Second, that particular one was made to hold wine. You can tell by the faded burgundy stains on the inside.”

Y/N’s smile widened, eyelashes batting softly at him in a look that threatened to prompt his legs to stop supporting him any minute. Her hand moved, traced up the buttons on her blouse to touch the pendant on her neck, involuntarily. 

“Third-...”

Sam’s heart pounded harder inside his chest at the sight, making his voice falter. He never thought he’d ever wish to be a necklace. His look burrowed deep within her, darkened.

“-I’m _dying_ to kiss you right now.” 

The words had already slipped, rolled out of his tongue before he could do anything to stop them, and his breath hitched. He didn’t move, frozen in place.

But then he felt it. Her hand, squeezing long and soft on his, and his body decided it needed not his permission to act. He leaned in, slowly, one step at a time. She pulled on his sleeve, demanding him to come closer. 

_Closer._

His hands landed on her sides. She held her breath, and he felt his own shake for a second, ragged. 

_Closer_

Their noses brushed together and then.

A halt. A thud. She bumped into something at her back and Sam heard a tumbling sound.

His eyes widened and he stretched his arm, hand reaching for the vase that now precipitated quickly towards the marbled floor, knocked over.

But he wasn’t faster than gravity.

The shattering sound was ear piercing.

\---

Sam cut left on a jagged corner, feeling his sneakers skip on the marble floor with a squeaking sound. He caught glances of the guard’s flashlight every now and then, the pillar of light projected by it bouncing on the walls around them from behind, but he never turned around to look. He could feel how close he was just by the echoing sound of his heavy footsteps, resonating around the ample rooms of the museum, and the sound of his voice commanding them to stop running.

He kept Y/N’s hand firmly held in his at all times, both to make sure she wasn’t left behind, and as some form of moral support. Not that he’d admit this last detail.

“Here! Through the window!” Sam’s running came to an abrupt halt as he turned right this time and into one of the exposition rooms on the bottom floor of the building. There were all kinds of relics of Egyptian origin exhibited  around the room, protected by glass cabinets. On a different situation, Sam would have never been able to resist the urge to stop and examine every single one of them, too. But there was no time for that now.

They both dashed through the room, almost hitting a couple of statues on their way, and reached the window on the other side. And it was only then that Sam noticed it was locked tight on the frame.

“Fuck. Shit-… Fuck.” He cursed, mumbling in distress as he stood there, eyes studying the window frantically as if hoping for it to magically unlock and open for them.

Then the running set of steps that had been hunting them down became audible once more from the corridors behind them, through the wide double door they’d left open. The guard would catch up with them soon.

“Move aside.”

The girl, out of breath and flushed the color of a ripe tomato, took a couple of steps back. He could see her eyes looking at the window, then him, then the door. And she did this non-stop, urging him without words to get them out of there somehow.

Sam stripped off his denim jacket, wrapped it around his right fist, and holding his breath between squinted eyes he punched the glass on the window as hard as he possibly could. And this one gave in immediately, shattering in a million pieces that crashed against the floor loudly. He stood idle for a second, long enough to hear the steps coming from the corridors stop. And then he saw the yellow light from the guard’s flashlight shine past their door and he knew he’d given away their position.

“Go. _Go,go,go,go!_ ” He stammered, breaking off the remaining shards of glass attached to the frame of the window with prompt resolve, so that they wouldn’t cut themselves on their way out, and immediately jumping out.

The ground floor was a bit higher up from the ground than he’d expected, and he stumbled for a moment when his heels landed abruptly, sending a shivering pain up his legs.

“Come on I’ll catch you, just jump!” He urged Y/N, who gazed down at him, then back into the room, and finally seemed to make her mind and jump out of the window. Sam did catch her, albeit in a clumsy way, the dark of the night making it hard to see. He tripped backwards and she landed on him, his back hitting the asphalt below. He groaned for a second, feeling the pain on his shoulder blades, but soon his eyes were looking for hers, checking that she was alright.

The girl pushed herself up on her hands, looking down at him with a light smile, letting him know she wasn’t hurt. And he returned the gesture, even if he still looked mildly distressed. “You okay?” He asked, and she nodded hurriedly. “Alright let’s go.”

Sam already knew, as they bolted towards the streets, that the guard must have alerted the police a while ago. And his suspicions were nothing but confirmed in a hot minute, when police sirens started echoing in the distance and he knew it would not be long before they could spot the flashing red and blue lights.

“We’re fucked. We’re so fucked.” He breathed out, eyes looking in all directions as he tried to make out which flank would the police cars show up from. 

Then he spotted it.

An old, colorful van, parked right next to a nearby cafe. The night had advanced for it to be early rather than late, and he noticed the pink tint the sky was starting to acquire as the sun started to come up, peaking up through the horizon. 

The van sported a massive, neon sign of a slushy flashing in striking colors on the very top. He also noticed that the door to the driver’s seat had been carelessly left opened and he assumed the owned must’ve been delivering some product to the owner of the cafe, inside.

“This way!” He suddenly blurted out, deciding to act first and think later. The idea of spending any time at all in a cell was off-putting enough for him not to give a damn about the consequences. 

Rushing towards the unguarded van, Sam slipped inside and let out a relieved smile at the sight of the keys that were still in the contact, keeping the engine running and rumbling. Y/N jumped in after him, claiming the shotgun seat, and visibly distressed at the idea of stealing a car.

“Don’t worry, we’ll give it back.” Sam assured her, and she must’ve hated the idea of getting caught by the police too because she nodded frantically, and that prompted him to floor the car and bolt out of the scene as quick as that old vehicle would allow them.

He knew the guard never got the change to take a good look at them, so as long as the succeeded at thwarting the attempts of the police at catching them, they’d be fine. 

The only problem was that the van had turned out to be a fairly rickety piece of junk. As they sped up through the streets of Boston, thankful that there wasn’t much traffic or people nor cars at that time, Sam felt as if the whole vehicle would suddenly fall apart and he would be left holding nothing but the steering wheel.

With each bump and turn, the van would whine, and creak, and Sam would clench his jaw, on the verge of anxiety. 

He wondered if he could have a heart stroke at the age of 18.

At this point that might prove to be less painful than driving that thing.

At the back, the slushy machines, already functioning, made similar metallic and rusted complaints, shaking around. Hadn’t they been attached to the sides of the van, they would’ve been flying all around the place, no doubt.

Sam started to feel like they had put enough distance between them and the police, when suddenly one of the slushy machines snapped off the metallic surface it had been attached to, the screws that held it in place until then finally giving up.

With a loud thud, the whole thing clashed against the van’s floor and slid across it, bursting through the double back door that flew open, and spilling a pink colored, sticky slushy mixture all over the place. The substance pooled at the back, dripping off the back of the vehicle and leaving a pink trail behind them.

A very easy to follow pink trail.

Sam cursed out loud and internally in equal measure, and his eyes traveled from Y/N to the streets they drove through alternatively. 

“Hold onto the wheel! I’ll shut the door!” He promptly instructed, leaving a mildly panicked Y/N to keep them in course while he slipped through the seats towards the back. 

As soon as he stepped on the pink mixture, his sneakers slipped as if walking over cooking oil, and he skidded all the way towards the open doors, a grunting sound turned into distressed screech leaving his throat as he was essentially flung out of the van and only ever managed to grip at the handle on the right door in the very last second.

“I’m alright! It’s all good! No panic!” He shouted from his position, trying to make sure the girl wouldn’t stop looking at the trail they blazed, lest they crashed the vehicle and died all the same. 

Then the van took a very sharp turn, and the doors flung once more, tossing him inside at high speed and closing as forcefully as they had opened. 

Sam collided against the back of the driver’s seat, painfully hitting his knee and his shoulder in the process, and tripping a couple more times as he tried to gain footing and scramble back to his seat.

Panting, hurting, and with part of his jeans covered in slushy mixture, he finally retrieved the wheel and now, pink trail out of the equation, they were back on their tracks. He would drive as long as it would take him to make sure the police could no longer follow. 

That’s how about an hour later, a half broken down van sat at the edge of a silent park, a constant, faint column of smoke emanating from the exhaust pipe. The sign on top had long ago stopped flashing, and a strong, sweet smell of sugar surrounded the wrecked vehicle.

They sat restless for a moment, side by side, as close to each other as the truck’s seats would allow, every muscle still tense in remembrance of the chaotic hell that had broken loose only moments ago. Their minds swirled still, shaken up and confused. Sam swore it was almost like being drunk, if only one could get inebriated with adrenaline.

It was hot. Too hot. The mechanisms inside the machines at the back were busted, engines spinning with a weak rattle, letting out scalding steam slowly but without a pause. It filled the air, mingling with the heavy and sugary smell of slushy mixture that already lingered there, making it harder to breathe. It turned the atmosphere rather sleep-inducing, in a mind fogging kind of way.

Their skin had acquired a glazed sheen.

It was smothering like sleeping restless between thick sheets in a Boston summer, and yet Sam could not bring himself to take his hands away from the steering wheel just yet, relying on the reassurance that it gave him to be latched onto something steady.

The girl turned her head slowly, her glance landing on him, speaking volumes without need for a single word. Being the kind of person he was, Sam knew how to recognize the particular gleam in her eyes. There was something that sometimes happened when two people went through a dangerous situation together. 

Her chest moved up and down with each ragged exhale, the medallion’s shine now complimented the one of the skin it rested on.

Silence. Only filled by the erratic sounds of their breathing.

Leaving the wheel now, Sam’s hand moved, painfully slow, and pressed humid fingers on her left thigh. The brush of the fabric on her skirt was smooth, but the touch of her skin was unmatched, silky.

And then suddenly, Sam saw it in her eyes. 

She knew.

She knew the way in which he thought about her now. 

It all happened lightning fast. They both leaned in, the distance their seats tried to force between them be damned, and their lips collided, meeting again. 

Sam’s hands looked for her, blindly, hungry, pulling from her until the girl made her way towards him and straddled him. Her back pressed uncomfortably against the steering wheel, but she couldn’t care less.

The kiss was sloppy, and rushed by the shot of adrenaline that run through their veins, but warm, wet, and intoxicating all the same. Full of panting moans and ragged breaths. 

He noticed his hands were shaking as soon as he pressed them hard against her hips, and tried not to think how her taste got him stupid hot, and he ached at the mere scent of her hair. 

She run eager hands down his chest, and once they reached the hem of his sweater, up his abdomen. And the feeling of her fingertips pressed so avidly against his naked skin made him quiver, sucking in a breath. Sam sworn her touch would burn on him, marked forever with her fingerprints.

Their lips parted in the kiss, slowly, breaths mingling as their tongues stole a taste of one another for the very first time. Sam’s mind was out of its depths, swiveling non-stop, drowned in an ocean of her. He wanted her taste to be part of his daily menu.

“Y/N...” He whispered, lips swollen lightly from kissing too hard, brushing with the word.

Someone banged on the van’s door so harsh they both jolted on the seat, heads turning in annoyance and shooting daggers at whoever dared interrupt them in a moment like that one. But they both felt their hearts sink and stomach’s drop when the noticed it was a police man.

He banged on the window again, and Sam worked on the best smile he could pull of considering the situation.

He rolled down the window, and cleared his throat.

“G'night officer.” Sam greeted, the tone in his voice charming enough even as he tried to steady his breathing. He wondered if he shouldn’t just ask the man to go camping with him straight away, considering the tent he’d just pitched in his pants. He repressed the urge to groan in discomfort. 

“What are you doing?” The policeman questioned, stern.

“What does it look like?” 

Sam’s smile widened, and the man’s brow furrowed further. 

“Get outta the car.”

They did. Of course. 

Sam was aware he was only being a smartass because he’d interrupted what had most likely been the best moment of his life. Hence, the spite he felt, was justified. Or so he thought.

“Do you know this is a stolen vehicle? You kids now days think anywhere is a good enough place to-”

“Sorry sir.” He interrupted him, because he truly had no patience, nor energy left to deal with anybody scolding him right now. Plus, they seemed to have gotten lucky; the guy didn’t know _they_ had stolen the van.

They needed to leave before that changed.

“We’ll be more careful next time.”

“Just-...get outta here. Come on. Out.”

The policeman waved them away, visibly weary and not wanting to deal with them either, and Sam wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and promptly left the scene, not even considering arguing.

They were lucky he never heard them snickering as they walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

  

That night, as he laid awake in bed, with a smile on his lips and an uncommon kind of warmth in his heart, one thought kept on crossing Sam’s mind.

_The last time he’d kissed **the** girl, the temperature was hot._


	5. Love, Loss, And Limerence

Over the course of the week, winter had finally fallen over Boston, cold gripping the city and manifesting in the form of the lowest temperatures they’d had in the past few years.

Sam could see his breath leaving his lips that morning, the air he’d draw out turning into a faint cloud of swirling vapor as soon as it abandoned his lungs.

The thick mantle of frost that had covered everything the previous night now crunched under his sneakers as he walked out of his motel room and grabbed a hold of his bicycle. He noticed the handlebar was freezing cold in his grasp and he shuddered, rubbing his hands together for a second before getting a hold of it again.

He could feel his nose and the points of his ears slowly going numb, and he bet his bottom dollar they were turning red too. He wished he had a warm coat to wrap himself in. But he couldn’t afford one. Money had started to run low and any expectations of getting any income had started to dwindle. He had not been able to find a job for the past couple of weeks, and he was starting to spread thin on just about everything.

If Sam wanted to ensure being able to pay rent, he had to cut off on certain things. That meant no TV, no heating, only one meal a day, ten minute showers, having the lights on only when absolutely necessary, and of course, no warm winter coats. He was left with his trusty denim jacket, which albeit having a special place in his heart, did a piss poor job at keeping the nipping cold at bay.

As he walked along the riverside, pushing his bicycle while he waited for the frost to melt down from it, he came to a halt to pull his hands away once more, feeling the cold seeping into his fingers and making every bone in them ache.

Bringing his hands to his mouth, he blew a warm whiff of air on them, eyes scouring the horizon and noticing the way the early sunlight washed over the river, dancing and glistening on the waving surface. The slight humidity that floated in the air clung onto his hair, forming tiny white, shimmering pearls of frost.

He was about to resume walking when a voice reached him.

“Hey, kid!”

His head turned left, following the source of the sound until his gaze landed on the garage near his house, the one with the massive junkyard at the back, chock full of scrapped cars. He’d been there before.

Standing on the doorway was who Sam presumed was the owner. Right above him, over the door frame, one could read “ _Benny’s garage_ ”. So he must’ve been Benny.

Sam looked around for a second, to confirm that nobody else was there but him. 

“Me?” He asked anyway, still a good bunch of feet away.

“Yeah, you. Come over ‘ere.”

The man, tall and stocky even if his navy t-shirt couldn’t hide a lightly protruding belly, waved for him to get closer and Sam obliged, albeit cautiously.

“Where'd you get that?” Benny pointed at Sam’s bicycle.

_The bicycle._

Suddenly, he became extremely aware of the thing’s presence, and a cold sweat run up his spine, warming up his whole body in the fraction of a second. His hands tightened around the handlebar, a lump quickly forming in his throat as he remembered now where the bicycle had originally come from.

“I-“

“That was in my junkyard, right?”

The man’s voice was low and raspy, a frown crowning his forehead in mild annoyance. Sam’s hands had started to sweat, as had the back of his neck. He pushed the bicycle forward slightly, as if making a peace offering, his eyes darting across the mechanic’s face and trying not to panic too much.

“It was. But please, I can explain.” He wasn’t expecting for Benny to listen, but the man folded his arms and lowered his chin, eyes drilling on him as he waited for that explanation. “It was just layin’ around. I don’t have a penny, and I thought nobody would miss it.”

“Nobody did miss it, if my memory doesn’t fail me that thing musta been rotten to hell by the time you found it.”

Sam shrugged, although the man was very right.

“Yeah well, it was fallin’ apart but I needed a ride, so…”

Benny cocked his head, eyes squinting now, and Sam’s eyes fluttered for a second, rushing to apologize.

“I know I stole it all the same, and I’m sorry. You can have it back, alright?” He pushed on the bicycle a bit more, offering for him to take it from his hands. “Just-…please don’t call the police.” A tired tone seeped into his voice now, words followed by a sigh. “They’re, uhm… not very fond of me.”

A moment of silence overcame the scene during which Sam kept his grip on the bike, and Benny kept his eyes locked on him, as if passing some form of silent judgement. Then, one of his hands pointed lazily towards the half-rusted bicycle.

“Did you fix it?”

Sam’s eyes traveled towards the bike for a second, then back at the man.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

More silence.

Benny’s hand retracted and his arms went back to being folded. Sam had now started to grow seriously antsy, biting his lower lip in anticipation.

“Are you lookin’ for work, kid?”

He frowned, unsure of having heard him correctly. The mechanic arched his eyebrows in response, that half disappeared behind the brown baseball cap he was wearing. The thing might’ve been red long ago, but time and sunlight had taken their toll on the fabric’s color.

Sam  _had_ heard correctly, and was suddenly struck by a sense of urgency, because he did need a job. Desperately. He couldn’t afford to hesitate and waste the opportunity.

“Yes! Yes. I am, actually.”

“Alright come in.” Benny offered, turning on his heels and making his way back into the garage’s reception. Halfway through crossing the doorway, he stopped and gestured towards Sam’s bicycle.

“And leave that out. No one’s gonna steal it. Thing still looks like shit.”

Unable to deny that logic, he left the bike leaning against the wall and followed suit inside the place, looking around with a spark of curiosity in his eyes and his hands tucked inside the pockets of his jacket. The reception was fairly small, but surprisingly clean with the exception of some black footprints on the floor caused by what he assumed was grease or motor oil. Against the wall in front of the reception’s desk and right below a wide window were two pairs of cushioned chairs that looked slightly old and withered.

Sam noticed two doors on the wall behind the desk, one on each side, left and right. The latter had been left agape, and he caught a brief glance of what seemed to be an office. The former probably led to the actual garage.

“So-“ Benny spoke once more, walking around the desk but never sitting on the chair behind it. There was a steaming cup of freshly made coffee sitting on the wooden surface. He noticed the dark wood had matted after years of usage. “-I’ve a car at the back waiting to be worked on. Owner brought ‘er in this morning…”

He listened intently, approaching the desk as he watched the older man pull out two sugar sachets from a drawer and open them at the same time, pouring the contents in his cup of coffee. He wasn’t sure why, but Sam still felt mildly wary of the situation, not being able to shake off a permanent feeling of uneasiness. The morning would turn sour indeed if he made the wrong impression and Benny ended up calling the police anyway. Sam watched him bring the cup to his mouth and take a long sip of coffee, his tired and measuring eyes still stuck on him.

“If you can fix ‘er by noon, the job is yours.”

“What’s wrong with the lady?” Sam smiled halfway, head tilting slightly to the side.

“That’s for to you to find out.”

Right. It seemed no easy task, as Sam claimed to be no mechanic. He was just a guy with a knack for fixing broken things because he could never afford to buy new stuff.

He gave it a thought, gnawing on his lower lip.

Had to try.

“Alright show me.”

“Through ‘ere.”

Benny signaled for him to follow, and, coffee mug sill in hand, opened the closed door on the left hand side of the reception. His suspicions were confirmed when this turned out to lead to the garage where Benny worked on the cars, and parked right in the middle was a white Buick Roadmaster. The wooden decorations on each side of the vehicle made it strikingly easy to recognize the model. Sam scrunched his nose, a faint amused laugh leaving his lips.

“A guy brought this in?” He watched Benny nod silently, almost solemn, sipping away at his hot drink. “Why is he drivin’ around town in a soccer mom’s car?”

“I don’t ask questions anymore.”

Sam laughed a bit harder, stripping off his jacked and eyeing the car now, trying to determine if there was any visible external damage to it.

“The tools ‘re there.” The mechanic pointed at a metallic chest of drawers, painted in a greyish shade of blue that was chipping away on certain parts. “Come see me when you’re done.”

And with that, he scratched his bearded chin and left the room, and him in it to figure things out on his own.

“Alright…” Sam muttered to himself, hands weighting the denim jacket for a stuttering second before leaving it over the chest of drawers. 

He rolled up the sleeves of his black henley sweater and thanked god for his choice of color that day. 

After discovering the metallic chest of drawers had wheels of its own, he pushed it closer to the car and got to work. Walking around the vehicle, he managed to find near to no external damage, some deeply scraped paint over the front left wheel being the only exception. 

Then he moved onto opening the car’s hood, bending over it to check inside. He let out a groan of mild effort as he reached inside the machinery, feeling here and there around the engine, walking up and down to retrieve some tools every now and then and breaking a light sweat in the process. But he found himself thoroughly engaged and entertained by the routine of figuring out what could be malfunctioning.

“Nothing.” He huffed after a while of prodding and fumbling around. 

Sam scratched his forehead, leaving a smear of motor oil on his skin in the process, that sunk deeper in the crinkle that formed between his eyebrows as he frowned. “Well darlin’-” Closing the hood with a swift gesture, he smiled down at the car, hands on his hips. “-gonna have to check under your skirt.”

After a bit of searching around the garage, Sam managed to find a red creeper board, and laid atop to roll underneath the vehicle. There was little space there and his shoulder blades hurt slightly, pressed against the board’s hard surface, but he’d make it work. 

He coughed a couple of times, dust being lifted from the floor and tickling his nose, then got back to work on the car’s underbelly. 

Sam found minor problems on certain areas, easily fixable, but he was sure he’d hit the jackpot when he felt what he thought was a screw stuck in the wrong position among the complex arrangement of valves, tubes and metal on the underside of the vehicle. 

His hand popped out from underneath, pawing blindly around the concrete floor until his fingers found a wrench, and he brought it face-height. Managing to trap the wonky screw, he began loosening it, finding no short deal of resistance.

“Come on.” Sam growled, teeth clenched in effort and streaks of straining muscle showing on his forearms. He pushed harder, and the screw finally came off. It fell on his chest followed by a squirt of black oil that hit him right in the face to then drip for a second before stopping completely. 

A laugh left Sam’s lips shortly after, wiping the black substance from his face with the back of his hand, a single eye squinted to prevent it from blinding him. “Was I too harsh, baby? Or did you just get excited?” He indulged in laughing a bit more, almost glad that nobody else had been there to witness that. 

He’d tightened the screw in its right position, and checked around a bit more for the sake of reassurance. There was little else he could do. And so with mild uncertainty and nerves churning in his belly, he opened the door to the reception, his upper body appearing through the doorway as he leaned in.

“Uhm-…sir?”

Benny, that was currently crunching numbers on an old notebook, turned his head around at the call. 

“I’m done.” Sam announced. He saw the older man gaze at the clock strapped to the wall. It was short of 13:00 PM now. 

“Just in time. Let’s have a look.”

Giving the car a critical eye, Benny paced around it, to finally sit down on the driver’s seat and pull out the keys. 

Sam’s breathing stilled, the air now held in his lungs and his heart beating a tad faster as he watched the man turn the keys to test the vehicle. And for a split second, he thought he’d blown it, he hadn’t been able to fix it. But soon enough the engine came alive with a loud roar that filled the garage and bounced off the walls in a proud echo. It mixed with a single triumphant laugh that Sam couldn’t repress, bringing his hands up to his head to run anxious fingers through his hair. 

“It works! Holy shit!” That ought to show how much confidence he initially had on his ability to _actually_ get that car back in order. 

“Yeah, so it seems.” Benny let out in a grunt, deafened by the engine, which he then killed and pulled the key back out. 

Without a word, the man stepped out of the car and walked back into the reception, adjusting the cap on his head. 

Sam stood there for a second, unsure on whether Benny was satisfied or not. He followed his steps outside the garage, retrieving his denim jacket in the process, and leaned against the desk with a palpable look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What’s your name, kid?” 

Benny had gone back to writing something on his notebook, eyes scouring the lines of letters he was creating himself.

“It’s Sam. Sam Drake.” 

“Okay, Sam Drake.” He looked back at him, and Sam returned his glance. Tense silence lingered in the air for a second. He didn’t even blink. “Your shift starts at seven in the mornin’, tomorrow. Don’t be late, I got another car comin’ early.” 

Sam could’ve kissed the man. 

He managed to hide the urge to jump around the reception but not the wide smile that split his face now, or the obvious shimmer of hope and happiness in his eyes. 

“Yes! Thank you. Thanks. I’ll be here.” 

Trying to keep it as cool as possible, he walked backwards towards the exit, stumbling at a certain point before opening the main door and stepping outside. 

As soon as his brain had the time to process all the new information, he immediately knew where he’d go next.

***

He could feel himself fidgeting, but couldn’t seem to stop.

He was gazing from the distance, past the iron gates of the orphanage, eyes searching, hoping to find the familiar figure. It appeared soon enough, leaving the tall building among the flood of running children that laughed and conversed excitedly. 

She walked into the sunlight with a distinctive kind of ephemeral hue surrounding her whole. Y/N always seemed so distant in an ethereal kind of way, but more so when she was unsuspecting of anyone’s stare.  

As he watched, Sam could feel his ears pinking, his heart fluttering for a second with excitement just at the sight of her. Even after knowing the girl for this long, he kept on finding her strikingly dreamy. 

When she walked over to the bench where she always sat down to indulge in some reading, he whistled. Softly enough to be inconspicuous, yet loud enough for her to hear. She picked up on the sound instantly, and he waved at her from the other side of the fence. Signalling for her to follow, Sam walked along the high iron bars, and out of everyone else’s sight, towards the back of the orphanage. 

Y/N met him there soon after, approaching from the other side with her book clutched to her chest and a welcoming smile. 

“Hey…” Sam greeted her with a smile of his own that he could feel had come out slightly goofy, and lowered his gaze if only for a moment, in an attempt to look less dazed once he returned his eyes to her. 

She nodded gently, smile widening, and he couldn’t help but to lay eyes on her mouth this time. He missed her taste. He noticed in the way the mere image of her lips sent a zinging wave of heat up his spine. 

One time drinking from this water was enough to have him thirsting over her for the rest of his life. 

The thought of this brought the memory of the last time he’d seen the girl to his mind, and this, in turn, made his heart jump inside his chest once more. And something else, below in his pants.

He cleared his throat, shifting the weight of his body with feigned nonchalance. 

“How you been?” 

She walked a bit closer, the point of her feet almost touching the fence now, and nodded again, brushing a stray lock of hair off her face and tucking it behind her ear. And Sam felt jealous of her hands, wishing his own had carried out such meager task. 

She was good. She looked so. 

“I gotta tell you somethin’.”

A titillating feeling washed over Sam, like a warm buzz that had its source deep within his chest and made his hair stand on end on the back of his neck. He drew the next breath to push out his words. Somehow, he was excited to share the news with her.

“I…got a job.” His voice came out smaller that he’d predicted.

Y/N couldn’t help but to think the smile that graced his lips somewhat resembled the one kids get when they show their parents a brand new drawing they expect to put up on the fridge.

But she couldn’t find the reason why this would be a good thing, so she did not follow suit with a congratulation, returning his gesture with a concerned frown instead.

And only then did he realize she must’ve taken it as another one of _those_ jobs.

“Oh no, not that.” He jumped in, as if she were voicing a complaint and he needed to speak over it. 

She spoke with subtle glances and gestures. Too meagre for most people to notice. But at this point he was so used to it, it felt as if he could hear her voice, concerned that he’d get into some other dangerous robbery.

“No stealing, sneaking, police sirens or any of that stuff involved… I mean a _real_ job.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, a bat of her beautiful lashes spurring the urge in him to sigh at the sight. She leaned closer yet, a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips this time, wanting to hear more.

But just as he was about to resume talking, he noticed her eyes shifting suddenly and leving his, to focus somewhere between the bridge of his nose and his left cheek.

“What-?”

Reaching out, she brushed her thumb against the skin there. Her smile widened slowly until it turned into a brief giggle. When her hand retreated, there was an obvious, pitch black smudge staining her finger. Raising a single eyebrow, the girl looked at him with amused curiosity.

“Oh shit.” Sam promptly brought the sleeve of his jacket to his cheek, rubbing it against the spot where she’d touched previously, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, that’s motor oil. It’s- yeah. I’m working at the garage near the motel.”

He glanced down to discover another black smudge on his sleeve now.

“Is it gone now?”

Rubbing her thumb a couple more times against his cheek, both of them chuckling as she did so, the girl finally nodded in approval. There was a question in her eyes now, her head tilting softly.

“How’d I get the job?”

Y/N’s smile widened, her fingers curling around one of the iron bars on the fence now, leaning slightly against it. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself with the thought, but she seemed delighted that he’d gotten that right on the first try.

“Well, I was just walkin’ around with the bike, you know? Near the river. And then this guy, Benny –he’s the garage’s owner-  he noticed the thing had come out of his junkyard. Fair enough because I did nick it from him. But instead of callin’ the police on me he asked me if I’d fixed the bike myself. And that sorta led to me fixing a car and now… I got a job.”

Sam frowned, then laughed, noticing how inconsistent the story sounded once you told it like that. Because what were the odds of something like that actually happening? As it turned out, plenty.

The girl laughed along, but she seemed more delighted than she did disbelieving. There was a newfound radiance in the way she looked at him now, and something entirely caring about her expression.

He would not need to carry out petty thefts to eat one more day now. He didn’t have to be a criminal. A little problem in everyone’s lives. A good-for-nothing.

He had a job now.

An honest to god, real job. One that he enjoyed, and that would bring money to his pocket in a regular basis. Perhaps there was hope for Samuel Drake after all, even when nobody had been willing to believe so. Even if he’d been labelled too far gone. A lost cause.

But she’d believed in him. Every minute of every day he’d known her, she’d believed he was more than the world made him out to be.

And perhaps he _could_ be more. For her.

He’d been staring. As usual. And in the meantime his hand had somehow found its way to hers, fingers wrapping softly around it even as she still gripped at the iron bar beneath her palm. The air was cold, but she was surprisingly warm.

Sam gnawed on his lower lip to repress the words that lingered in his mind. A question he was dying to ask, but felt it was too bold to let it come out. Too childish.

The petty urge to know was far more powerful than his sense, as expected. And so he stepped closer, his chest almost pressing against the cold metal of the fence that kept them apart. His lips parted, hesitant.

“Are you…proud of me?”

His voice turned faint and small, even his eyes turned away from her for a moment, obviously flustered to dare ask something like that.

Had he been able to read her mind, however, he would’ve found her grateful for his question. She had wanted to tell him herself, and now, she could.

The girl let go of the cold metal to lace fingers with him, and squeezed his hand, a touch soft and lingering that pulled his gaze back into her eyes. And the look in them made Sam draw a breath through a shy smile.

Her hand might’ve said ‘Yes’, but her eyes said ‘Immensely’.

“Thank you.” Sam whispered as they both leaned slightly closer, unwittingly perhaps, drawn by each other’s regard. But his words drowned in the loud ring of the orphanage’s bell, that announced the end of playtime for the kids. It tolls for them.

Y/N turned her head around towards the loud sound, and when she looked back at him Sam knew it had the same disheartening effect on the girl as it did on him.

“It’s alright, I gotta go home anyway, I’m getting’ up early tomorrow.” He assured, although his expression gave away that he didn’t really want to leave. “But hey, how about I come see you this weekend? We could go out somewhere…” And knowing full well it was unnecessary, he added. “Together.”

Her hand tightened around his, an affirmative gesture accompanied by a sweet, anticipating smile. And every second he stood there looking into the girl’s eyes made it harder for him to walk away. He had to leave right now.

Luckily for Sam, Y/N seemed to have more force of will than he did, and finally started backtracking, albeit reluctantly.

Their arms stretched out, hands unwilling to give up and let go of one another.

“I’ll see you soon.” Sam murmured, just as their fingertips ceased to touch.

 

***

The week went by painfully slow. And by the time the weekend arrived, Sam was bouncy on his heels with excitement. He was distracted enough at work, but once he arrived back home his mind would start overworking like a well greased engine pushing itself a bit too far. 

Whatever he did, he kept on thinking about happened between Y/N and him last weekend. He rolled the thought in his head like one would a piece of doe in the hands. Except constantly. 

Now, as he walked down the streets of Boston beside her, footsteps crunching on the layer of frost below them, the thought still refused to leave him. 

Because the truth brought him uncertainty. And the truth was, things had happened between them. But they had been pulled into one another in a rush of heat, fumbling hands and sloppy kisses. And now, their brief make out session on the seat of a van felt weirdly disconnected from reality. Far away in the way that one thinks of the universe. Unreal and ethereal in the same way one dreams.

Like snapping awake from a daze. That’s what it felt like. 

Like they could pretend it never happened, yet it had been very real. 

And while the truth felt uncertain, the fact felt reassuring. Because it _had_ happened, despite how it felt. The more Sam thought of it, the least he could believe it himself. But it had. 

So she liked him back.

Even if Sam had no way of knowing if his feelings towards her were reciprocated, at least he knew the _physical attraction_ was.

And he was willing to take this as a small victory. But not to take it for granted.  It meant nothing in terms of where they stood.

After all, a swallow does not a summer make.

Thus, Sam had the lingering feeling that he needed to do a _bit_ more. He needed to spend some time with her. Some quality time. And since he got paid weekly, he had some money to make that happen. 

He might have, admittedly, gotten slightly obsessed with causing a great final impression. Hence he’d also been considering where to take the girl. Extensively. 

And that was The Black Sheep.

Sam stared up at the silver and neon red sign that crowned the entrance to the club. This was where every other kid his age spent every Friday and Saturday night. 

His eyes traveled down to the bouncer at the door, but he never felt a twinge of uneasiness. The man wasn’t checking IDs. They never did at The Black Sheep. This was the sole reason of it being so popular. And although he had, of course, a fake ID all the same, Y/N did not. 

This should save them a lot of trouble. 

As they queued for the entrance, it occurred to him that he’d never been in a club before. Sam had never considered this, being more of a ‘stay at home reading’ or ‘steal some crap to eat this week’ kind of guy. He’d never had the time. Or the friends to go with. But he should enjoy it, right?… This was what everyone loved.

Just as they were a couple of steps away from getting in, Sam indulged in peeking at the girl one last time under the natural moonlight. Her cheeks and nose were flushed red due to the cold air. He bet her ears were too, but they were now covered by her loose hair. 

“That’s a very nice coat.” He admitted on a whim, earning a surprised smile from her, who’d remained unaware of his stare until that very moment. 

But it _was_ a nice coat. Navy blue, with silver buttons. It looked lovely on her. 

Once they finally made it inside, the sound of loud music engulfing the room, thumping through the air, was the first thing one was forced to notice. 

The second were the copious amounts of people. Sam was positively sure the room was so warm due to human heat alone. 

Tugging at the neck of his baseball t-shirt to then rid of his denim jacket, he offered Y/N a hand stripping off her own coat. 

His brain stuttered for a split second, eyes irrepressibly running down the girls body, and then back up to her eyes as she adjusted the right sleeve on her white blouse. The flowing, black skirt she was wearing hugged her body in a way so divine, it made his fingertips burn with the urgency to be pressed around her waist just the way the piece of clothing did; Tight.

She looked stunning under the dim, red lights.

And he was making a constant humming noise of approval. An involuntary one. That he made sure to put an end to as soon as he caught himself, and then proceeded to thank the loud music internally for muting it.

Y/N brushed the wrinkles off her skirt, and looked up at him with bright, expectant eyes. She must’ve caught him watching and now wanted his verdict.

Sam swallowed, lips pouting ever so slightly as he nodded again and again. 

“Good.”

He said. Nothing else was coming out. As if his mind had been suddenly wiped clean of every other word he’d ever learnt.

“Good…good…” He repeated, almost in a stupor. It was the way he looked at her that made the girl’s cheeks blush, almost imperceptibly under the club’s lighting. 

Slowly but surely, and with no little degree of difficulty, they made their way through the crowded place towards the cloakroom at the very end. There, a visibly fatigued and spiritless lady, with curly and voluminous hair, took their coats and stored them for a dollar each. Which they were informed they could claim back once they retrieved their coats ‘if you’re not too smashed to remember’, in her words. 

And then…what?

As the young lady disappeared carrying their clothes, they turned around, eyes roaming around the room. They were probably supposed to dance, like every other soul in the place was now mindlessly doing. It was not easy for Sam to picture himself dancing in the middle of this heavily inebriated crowd and having fun while at it. But everyone else seemed capable enough of it.  

Perhaps the _getting drunk_ part was the key. 

That would do it. 

They’d have a great time, surely. 

“Alright, uhm…” Leaning closer to Y/N, Sam made sure to talk loudly, and near enough to her ear that she would be able to catch his words over the booming music. “I’ll go get us a couple of drinks, alright? Just wait for me over there, I’ll be back in two shakes.” He pointed towards a large and curved, orange couch, and then smiled wide at her. 

The girl watched him disappear in the ocean of people around them, fidgeting with uncertainty. Her fingers pinched on the first button of her collar, her brow furrowing faintly. 

She wasn’t comfortable. But Sam hadn’t noticed. 

Making her way, -still a tortuous task- towards the horrid colored couch in the lounge area, Y/N sat down on the least cramped spot she managed to find. Her head turned right to catch a glimpse of the teenage couple sitting at a distance from her, on the other end of the couch. She couldn’t figure out if they were kissing or trying to devour each other’s faces.

The red lights flickered, flashing around, dancing with the sound that enveloped her. She placed a hand on the side of her head, wincing lightly at the headache that place was causing her. 

There was smoke floating in the air, heavy, its scent strong. And alcohol. The smell of a thousand drinks being either poured or downed. 

She wasn’t made for a place like this. It had been obvious since she’d set foot in The Black Sheep. She looked lost, silent. Her blouse was too white. Her hair was too soft. Her eyes were too bright. Her lips were too sweet. 

She was neat, clean, radiant. Like a little star whose light was being devoured by blazing red lights and roaring music. 

“Come ‘ere often?”

Y/N jolted slightly on her seat, surprised. A guy sat down next to her. He held a half finished glass of what she presumed was vodka with coke by the color of the drink, and the stinking smell of his breath. 

“Never seen you around before.” He flashed a row of perfectly straight, white teeth in a wide smile, and she leaned back instinctively.

For some reason she thought of a wolf.

She pinched at the top button of her collar again, near her throat, swallowing with a polite smile. 

“You’re really pretty y’now? You stand out around this many ratchet skanks.” He laughed, amused at his own comment, and run fingers through his dark, wavy hair. 

Y/N did but sit quietly, staring at him and barely blinking. Perhaps any other individual would have noticed the obvious tension in her, but not that guy. That guy was three glasses of vodka past that. So he draped an arm around her shoulders instead. 

“If you want, I can show you the ropes. I’m a regular ‘round here…” 

The girl recoiled almost instantly, managing to brush his arm off and lean further away. She shook her head vigorously, hair flopping around and brushing her cheeks with the movement. 

And he laughed it off. 

“It’s alright, baby. You don’t need to be shy. I know a special place, upstairs…if you come with me-” 

Her head shook once more, and this time her eyes were wide, shining with something akin towards horror. The blush on her cheeks was long gone, and she was now turning pale. 

“You blind or somethin’?” 

Sam’s voice washed a wave of relief over Y/N as she watched her friend approach them now, walking around the couch. 

“What’s _your_ issue?” The guy with the wolf smile asked, visibly bothered by the interruption. 

“Can’t you see she said no?” 

“She hasn’t said anythin’ yet, pal.” 

The mockery wasn’t helping. As soon as he’d spotted the scumbag wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, Sam had felt his chest burn from the inside out like never before. And the guy’s attitude wasn’t helping him remain civil. 

“Just bugger off, yeah? She doesn’t want you around.” 

The guy stood up slightly taller than Sam, and closed in the distance that separated them to speak disrespectfully close to his face. He’d never smelled quite that much alcohol on anyone’s breath before.

“And what the fuck do you know, huh?” 

A tug on his sleeve. It must’ve been the girl. 

Had Sam looked her way, he’d been able to see her pleading expression, the eyes shining bright with fear and concern. The parted lips begging for him to drop it, and leave with her. 

Had he looked her way. 

But his eyes were locked on the other man’s when he pushed Sam on the chest and he stammered backwards for a second, due to the force of impact. 

He smiled. He couldn’t feel the last tug on his sleeve now.

God himself could have descended from the heavens and told him to stop now, and that would’ve changed nothing. Because he had decided the guy’s fate already. 

“I said-” He kindly repeated, returning his push with one of his own. And the man must’ve been surprised that someone his age had the strength Sam possessed because he almost seemed a bit baffled when his back collided against the wall. “- _leave her alone_.” 

It wasn’t a distaste he had for the stranger standing in front of him, it was pure hate. It pulsated, working its way around his brain. Burning, raw, churning in his stomach. It was a feeling strong enough that he could hear it; the blood pumping through his veins, thumping loud enough in his ears he’d stopped hearing the music.  

 The things this guy thought of doing to Y/N made his mind drown in the deafening white noise of anger. The thought of his hand over her made his own curl into a fist so tight he sunk his nails into his palms, knuckles whitening. 

Before he knew, he had the man pinned against the wall, and a circle of people had gathered around them, staring with morbid curiosity. 

Sam felt the stranger’s hand grab his t-shit by the collar and spout  _‘go find someone else to fuck, kid’_ on his face. And that sent it all tumbling down, the bubble of rage growing inside his chest bursting at once as he pushed him against the wall once more. 

He was sure he’d cursed aloud. Something terribly foul. But not even himself was he able to hear anymore while his fist rose in the air at face-height. His arm pulled back, fast, gaining momentum to throw a punch. But the punch never did happen. 

His elbow collided forcefully against something. An impact so strong, he felt the loud hit as much as he heard it. Sam’s entire arm vibrated at the collision, sending a light buzz through his bones all the way to his fingertips. 

And then, a thud against the floor. And his blood run cold in his entire body so quick he thought he would black out for a second. 

A cold seat crawled up his spine while he just stood there, his fist never being released, and him too scared to turn around. 

When he did, he almost wished he hadn’t. The sight made him nauseous.

Everyone’s eyes were locked on the girl that lay now on the floor. The music had stopped, but he’d only just noticed, and their constant whispering filled the room. 

Y/N raised herself up on her elbows with staggering difficulty, her eyelids heavy from the blow she’d just received. Fingertips reached under her nose, a warm, constant river of blood flowing now from her nostrils. It stained the white collar of her blouse and run down her neck. 

The girl gazed with blurred glare at the scarlet on her hand, and her eyes went wide, the image sinking in her brain alongside the pain that immediately started streaming through her. The tears piled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, but too shocked to sob. Silent. 

“Y-Y/N…” Sam’s voice shriveled, and he reached down for her with a trembling hand.

She smacked it away, leaving a smudge of blood from her fingers on the back of his hand, and stumbled back into her feet, pushing her way through the crowded people around her, then vanishing. 

The whispers grew into loud chatter, disturbed and amused comments being exchanged in equal amounts. 

Sam dashed across the room in a strangely dazed state of panic, and retrieved both his jacket and Y/N’s coat. Yanking the pieces of clothing from the hands of the lady behind the counter, he hadn’t the time to even turn back around before the bouncers grabbed a hold of him and kindly showed him where the exit was. 

By dumping him carelessly on the side of the road. 

He wrapped himself on his denim jacket and held the navy blue coat close to his chest, kneeling down. As he pushed himself back on his feet, his eyes caught a glimpse of a bright red dot on the faint white snow that covered the frosted ground. 

_A drop of blood._

There were more.

A trickle.

With a knot in his throat and a stabbing pain in his heart, he followed the scarlet trail in the dead of the night. The cold air was ruthless on his skin, making him shiver from head to toe. 

Sam only found Y/N half an hour later. 

He spotted her by the riverside, a hunched over, trembling figure. 

He wanted to throw himself in the waters and let the current swallow him. 

But first he’d at least return her coat. 

 “Hi…” 

She didn’t answer, and she didn’t look. But of course she didn’t. 

“Can-…can I sit?” 

Silence. The girl turned her face the other way, and he, feeling his legs weak, sat down next to her. At a prudent distance. 

“I brought your-” As soon as his hand reached out, offering the coat, she retrieved it with a quick gesture and wore it, fastening it with shaky hands. 

Then nothing.

Y/N sat there, quietly. Even under the pale moonlight he could see the stain of blood on her skin. Over her cupid’s bow, across her lips, down her chin…

Sam’s eyes were burning so hard, dreading to cry. He felt sick. His heart pounded against his chest, strangely slow, terrified. 

He wanted to say something, do something, that would fix it. But he had the daunting feeling that perhaps this time, he could not. 

“I’m sorry…” He just whispered, voice weak and broken. Like himself.

He wondered if the heat in his chest was his heart bleeding. 

Silence.

She pulled her knees towards her chest, legs flexing, wrapping her arms around them afterwards. 

“I’m so, _so_ sorry.” 

His heart skipped a beat in the worst way possible. _Please look at me_ , it seemed to beg. 

“I didn’t mean to, I swear, I just-”

 _‘You’ve been an idiot.’_ A voice echoed in his mind. _‘You should’ve paid attention. Pay attention. She wasn’t having fun. Neither were you. You’re an idiot, and this is your fault.’_

Sam clenched his jaw and closed his eyes shut, tight, trying to silence his thoughts. Running his fingers through his hair, he then rubbed his hands down his face. 

“I’m sorry I was an idiot…I thought-” His voice was muffled by the way he pressed the knuckles on one hand lightly against his lips, teeth scraping against his skin when he talked, barely blinnking knowing that the tears would overflow if he did so. “But I was wrong. I should’ve listened, I-…” 

He couldn’t finish his sentences. Because he had no excuse. 

His eyes glared over to her, shy, scared, undeserving. And his gaze was never returned. She wished not to speak to him. She wished not to hear his words either. And he- he couldn’t blame her. 

“L-let me take you home, at least. To know you got there safe” 

That was his only request. 

And now, her head turned towards him, and her eyes landed on Sam. And he almost wished she hadn’t laid them on him, because the feeling of betrayal and pain they reflected seared in his heart in a way he was sure to never forget. 

This time to say yes, she nodded.

 

***

At his early fifties and counting, Benny had seen the face of heartbreak enough times to recognize it with relative ease.

When Sam had walked in that morning, he’d attributed the hanging of his head and the way he dragged his steps to the natural tiredness that comes with waking up as early as they both did. But as the morning  progressed with no change in his mood it became clear there was something more going on with the young man.

It was as clear as day in the way he sighed every five minutes, the way he kept on getting things wrong, his mind obviously elsewhere. A faint shade of violet tinted the skin around his eyes, too, giving away he’d probably been having trouble sleeping.

When he offered Sam a muffin for breakfast and he declined, he knew something was definitely wrong. He remembered how his grandma used to say that lack of appetite was a bleeding heart’s first symptom. And this kid always raided his cabinet in search for food, every morning, no exceptions.

Now, he was hands on trying to fix the water tank from an BMW that a lady had brought in the previous night, while Benny took care of a motorbike right beside him, knelt down on the floor. 

As he straightened up to go pick a screwdriver, Sam hit his head on the car’s opened hood, spouting a curse through clenched teeth and rubbing the top of his head.

“Jesus Christ kid, where’s your head at?” Benny shot him a glance through the corner of his eye. But he never answered, limiting himself to sighing yet again as he finally retrieved the screwdriver. “You keep on sighing like that you gonna pass out from lack of oxygen.” 

The man was joking, but there was no smile present on his face, because he knew whatever was eating away at Sam must’ve been something major.  

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” 

He fiddled around with the screwdriver for a second.

“It’s a girl.” 

“It’s always a girl.”

Sam stuttered, not wanting to get into detail but desperate to get some of the weight out of his chest by speaking of what was causing him such grief. 

He walked over to the side of the car and leaned against it, arms folded. His gaze remained low, and Benny noticed. His eyes rarely left the floor. 

“I just-…I messed up big time.” There was no shrugging, no head tilting, no gesture that would insinuate he was even mildly casual about this. Instead, one hand kept on picking at the woolen fabric of his sweater, visibly anxious. The other one still held the screwdriver. 

“Yeah, I can see that. You look like you’re feelin’ lower than a snake’s ass in a drainage ditch.”

The faintest of laughs left Sam’s chest, barely an exhale through his nose. 

“I assume you apologized?”

Sam nodded, eyebrows arching.

“And she’s still givin’ you the cold shoulder?”

He exhaled again, looking up at the man this time. 

“To put it mildly.”

“Damn. That bad? She speaking to you?”

Sam was mildly amused by the irony of that question, but didn’t feel like explaining why she’d _never_ spoken to him in the first place. At least, not literally. But she did so in her own particular way. And the signs had been clear; had she a voice, she wouldn’t have been talking to him anyway.

“No. She’s not.” He concluded, the words leaving his mouth with a hint of remorse.

“Well, I dunno what to tell you kid. Beg, I guess.”

That was all the advice he was going to get from the mechanic, he’d turned his attention back to the motorbike, probably thinking his situation was a lost cause.

Shaking his head with a defeated laugh, Sam went back to burying himself underneath the hood of the car.

—

 It was six o’clock in the evening. 

The sky over Boston had started to turn a pink and orange hue, mixed in the same way watercolors join in a canvas. 

Sam’s shift had just finished. He donned his denim jacket, picked up his backpack, and was crossing the garage’s reception on his way out when Benny unglued his eyes from his trusty notebook to look at him.

“Hey Sam, hold on a minute.”

He halted suddenly, letting go of the door handle that was already in his hand, and walking back towards the man’s desk. 

“Yeah?”

“Got a client who works at the Winter Fair, he dropped by earlier.” As he talked, Benny pulled out a little stack of what Sam recognized as entry tickets for something. They were ice blue, with silver letters printed on them. “He gave me a bunch of these, but I only got one kid. There’s five to spare. Want any?”

The man placed the tickets on the desk, right in front of Sam, offering him to take as many as he pleased. It was then that a thought crossed his mind, quick as lighting. He’d promised Nathan and Y/N he’d take them to the Winter Fair some day, but he knew the entry was expensive. So far, he’d been struggling to save money. 

“Holy shit, that’s it!” He blurted out suddenly, eyes widening.

Benny’s brows knitted.

“Calm down kid, they’re not made outta gold.”

“Thanks! Thank you Benny. I’ll take three of them.” He snatched the entry tickets as he spoke, rushing back towards the door. “Thanks again! Thanks!”

And with that he left in such rush one would’ve been excused to think they were giving away twenty karat diamonds at the Winter Fair, leaving behind a heavily befuddled Benny. 

 

It was perfect. Beyond fantastic. So much so, that Sam was wondering if destiny had not played a hand in it all.

Now they could all go together to the Winter Fair, have a good time. Hopefully he’d manage to get Y/N to forgive him. Or at least tolerate him enough to be around him.

Sam crossed the city fast enough on his bike that he arrived at the orphanage in record time, and this time he was so excited he never even felt the exhaustion. His legs weren’t hurting. His lungs weren’t burning. But his heart was hammering against his chest, and this he noticed. In part it was because of her. 

He just wanted to see her again, and now he had the perfect excuse. 

“Nathan?” Perching himself on the window ledge, Sam didn’t have to look far before finding his little brother. He was sitting on the floor, right next to Y/N. They both had sketchbooks laid open on their beds in front of them, and seemed to be doodling something. 

Nathan looked up at him, eyes flickering for a moment as he noticed his brother’s figure, and then looked back at the girl. There was some silent exchange of thoughts, and she nodded with a faint smile before going back to her previous task. 

“There you are.” Nathan walked all the way to the window, on the other side of the room, and immediately folded his arms. 

“Hey little brother. You been good?” 

He was about to ruffle his hair as he always used to, but stopped short when he saw Nathan arch a single eyebrow.

“Have _you_ been good?…”

Sam’s hand retreated, and went onto scratching the back of his neck, silent now. Of course he would know. Even if Y/N hadn’t technically told him, there must’ve been obvious she was upset about something. And he couldn’t imagine that her showing up with a bloody nose last Saturday would’ve helped either. 

“I-”

“Dude, what the hell?!” 

“Just-”

“She’s my best friend, Sam!” 

Sam let out a dragged breath, stepping inside the room to lean against the wall now, head low once more. It seemed like his chin had been spending a lot of time pointing downwards lately. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“My only friend!”

 “Nathan!” Sam’s eyes stuck on his little brother for a second, stern but not harsh, requesting that he’d listen. He went reluctantly quiet, looking fairly disgruntled. “I did **not** mean to upset her. It was an accident.” 

Nathan didn’t look convinced just yet, staring intently enough not to blink. 

“I know you.” 

Sam sighed, long, and run his fingers through his hair. 

“If she’s like this, it’s because you were being a jackass.”

“ _Language_.” He groaned, tired.

“I don’t _care!_ Am I wrong? Were you being a jackass?” 

A pause. This time, it was Sam who went silent. And a shimmer of resolve crossed Nathan’s eyes as he pushed his brother with no real force, it was more a statement than anything else. 

“Ha! See? I knew it.”

“Yes, I might’ve acted like an idiot. But still, I never meant for this to happen. Okay?”

Nathan was hurt, too. He could see it in the light hint of betrayal present in his blue eyes. He could fathom why, as well. He probably thought she’d stopped wanting to be his friend as a repercussion if Sam ever happened to upset her enough. Even if he’d had nothing to do with it. Just because he was his brother. Kids brains work that way. 

“I’m sorry, Nathan.” This time, it was heartfelt. Sam’s eyes veiled in regret as he stretched a hand to brush his little brother’s arm, tentatively. 

“Yeah, alright. But now you go be sorry to her.” Nathan gestured towards Y/N with his head. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

He wished he could make him understand that, sometimes, being sorry did not cut it. Sometimes, if you managed to be enough of a moron, you had to go an extra mile to redeem yourself. 

“But…” Sam added, seeing that Nathan was about to complain, and pulled out the tickets for the Winter Fair. Blue, silver, and shimmering in the fading afternoon light. 

Nathan was speechless. He didn’t remember the last time he’d seen his eyes go that wide. 

“The winter fair!” It was almost a squeak, and Sam was shaken by a sudden laugh at the sound, handing him one of the entry tickets. 

“That’s right! We’re going!”

“Right now?” 

His voice was shaking with excitement, and Sam’s grief left his mind for a blessed moment. Adorable.

“Yes, right now.”

“Oh my **_god_**.” Nathan held the ticket in his hands, pulling at the corners to have a closer look at it.

This time, Sam did ruffle his hair. But he didn’t care, too busy anticipating the copious amounts of fun he was about to have, drinking in the beautiful silver letters on the piece of paper between his fingers. 

He left his little brother a moment to feel his feelings and assimilate the emotions whirling inside him, and decided to attempt and approach Y/N. Attempt, because his steps became noticeably softer, doubtful, almost timid, as he walked closer to her. And as soon as he was standing right beside her, a knot promptly formed in his stomach. 

Sam stuttered, letting out a faint hum as he organised his thoughts, only now realizing he didn’t quite know how to start this conversation. 

She gazed up at him, the pencil in her hand stopping its motion across the paper. Her eyes felt painfully cold. She might as well have stabbed him. It would’ve hurt the same. 

“Hey.” He greeted her with the weakest hand wave in history, needing to clear his throat before he could continue. “I’m not trying to bother you, I just wanted to ask you something…”

He half expected for her eyes to fall back to the notebook, but they remained stuck on him, an almost benevolent gesture. He tried to smile, ignoring the way knowing she’d rather not have him around squeezed his heart. If barbed wire could be a feeling, he would’ve chosen this one. 

“I got some tickets for the Winter Fair. A while back we talked about going…you know, when it came to town.” He shifted on his feet, fidgeting slightly, his eyes never holding her gaze for too long. “Do you…remember?”

Y/N rolled the pen in her fingers, then tilted her head with an obvious look. She did remember. 

He inhaled slowly, and let out a long, irregular breath. After a brief moment of silence, during which he gnawed on the inside of his cheek anxiously while wondering if he shouldn’t just leave her be, he finally managed to push his words out.

“Would you like to come with us?” 

Sam’s heart throbbed once, lingering in painful suspense. 

The girl’s hands released their grip on the pencil, and closed the notebook before standing up to his level. 

A polite smile tugged at her lips briefly, her eyes shifting towards Nathan, and back at him. Sam held his breath, smiling back…

And she nodded.

 

***

The Winter Fair was beautiful.

A shining beacon in the middle of the night. As soon as they set foot in the place, they were welcomed by an array of colorful lights, gleaming merrily above them. They were everywhere, bright on the archway that made the entrance to the fairground, forming the word ‘Winterland’, and strapped to every pole, shopping stand, cabinet and whatnot.

Immediately noticeable was also the sweet scent of cotton candy, hot chocolate and caramel-coated almonds, all being prepared around them as they paced through the place. The atmosphere evoked such comfort and cheer that it was almost impossible not to feel good, despite everything.

Sam couldn’t help but steal brief glances from Y/N, albeit keeping his hands preemtively buried inside the pockets of his jacket. He was dying to reach for her hand, and he didn’t trust himself not to do so in a sudden impulse. Since he wasn’t interested in receiving a visit from the slap-fairy, keeping his hands safely tucked away was best.

Nathan stopped walking suddenly, and tugged at his brother’s sleeve.

“Sam?”

“Oh- Y/N, hold on.” He called himself, turning around to look at his brother. The girl hadn’t noticed he’d stopped at first, but stood idle once Sam’s voice reached her. “What is it, Nathan?”

He watched Nathan lift his right foot off the ground slightly, shaking the loose laces of his sneakers.

“They’ve come undone. Can you tie them for me?”

A faint feeling of uncertainty washed over Sam, who frowned as he looked down at his little brother. He was _positive_ he could tie his laces on his own. But there was something in his eyes, barely blinking now, and the way his eyebrows arched a bit…

Sam knelt down in front of Nathan, starting to tie the laces with parsimony, and shot a quick glance upwards at him.

“There’s one of those shooting games up ahead.” Nathan whispered, and he was sure only he would’ve been able to hear the words even if Y/N would’ve been closer.

“So? You wanna go?”

Nathan nodded once, as if obvious. His brown hair shifted and he had to brush it away from his eyes for a second.

“You’re a good marksman. I thought maybe you could try to win a prize for Y/N.”

So that’s what was all about. Little Nathan playing middle man in trying to get the girl to forgive him. And apparently he felt his sorry ass was useless enough at the task of gaining her favor back that he needed some  immediate help.

Sam chuckled. He probably wasn’t wrong.

“Alright Nathan, I’ll try.”

His brother gave him a firm nod, convinced in his own plan, and smiled wide once Sam stepped away from his shoes.

“Thanks.”

Both brothers tried to play it as casual as humanly possible once they all walked past the little shooting range, where some parents and their kids were already playing. There was a set of cans placed at different heights and distances, with numbers painted on them. A grand total of eight.

“Oh look!” Nathan tugged at Y/N’s sleeve, a wide smile crossing his face while he pointed at the place. The metallic sound of cans being shot down filled the air intermittently. 

Sam didn’t mention the fact, but he was mildly impressed at the quality of his brother’s feigned surprise. Very convincing. And when both him and the girl looked at him in unison as if begging to go, he walked over alongside them, rummaging around his pockets to pull out his wallet. 

“Can I have a go, sir?” He requested, planting a five dollar bill on the counter that separated them from the cans. Behind this, a tall man with brown hair cut in a mullet swiftly removed the money to hand him a hunting rifle. It was little more than a replica, and it only shot tiny plastic pellets, but it did the job for knocking down cans. 

He watched Y/N lean against the counter from the corner of his eye, her hands laid flat on the wooden surface. Her hair was loosely gathered in a bun, and the sight of her exposed, delicate neck make his stomach flutter. It took him entirely by surprise, and Sam found himself having some difficulty tearing his gaze away from the gentle curve on the back of her neck. Or the few loose, short hairs there. Or…

“Are ya gon’ shoot or what?” 

Refraining the urge to shake his head and in so doing himself from his stupor, Sam nodded at the carny who was now shooting him suspicious looks, as if he weren’t sure what the hell he was waiting for. 

Sam stretched his back, loosened his shoulders, positioned the rifle and took aim. He breathed in deeply, and held the air in his lungs just before firing the first shot. And did so with every other shot. 

In the end, he knocked over five out of eight cans. Not bad at all. 

“Good job pal.” Greeted the guy with the mullet, clapping his hands a couple of times with no real excitement, and pulling out a little stuffed bunny rabbit from underneath the counter. The teddy was milky white except for a brown patch on its right eye, and as soon as Sam grabbed it, he noticed the incredibly soft touch of its fake fur. 

Nathan smiled widely, standing on Sam’s left hand side. He stared up at him and elbowed him softly to then shoot an obvious glance at Y/N, silently urging him to give it to the girl. 

Her eyes were now following the carny’s movements, as he retrieved every can from the floor and placed them on their designated spots once more. 

Sam run a hand through his hair, more nervous than he cared to admit, and turned towards her still holding the toy bunny in is other hand. “Y/N?” He called, drawing a little smile as he offered it to her. 

Her eyes shifted towards him, long eyelashes fluttering twice, then down at the teddy. He nodded once, to let her know it was hers to take if she so wished. And her hands raised from the counter now, but not to grab the bunny, as it turned out, but to retrieve Sam’s wallet from the pocket in his jacket and slam a five dollar bill on the surface just as he’d done before. 

She grabbed the rifle and, closing a single eye, took aim.

And the first can on the left hand side flew in the air with a metallic clang. Sam watched it spiral in the air to then land on the floor, clattering for a second. 

Then she shot again, and the second can on the far end suffered the same fate. And so did the fourth one. 

One by one, the girl hit bull’s eye every single time. Until the very last can rolled on the floor with a tinny rumbling, that only stopped when it encountered the carny’s boot. 

Nathan’s mouth was agape, and the guy’s jaw was hanging no less. Sam’s expression, while being less obvious, had no little tint of shock. And he was still standing there holding the rabbit. 

“Holy shit…” He muttered in the faintest thread of voice, slightly high-pitched at that. 

“Holy shit indeed. Seems like ya won the big prize missie.” Giving back the ten dollars they’d paid for playing, the carny added a prize of forty dollars on top of that and handed it to Y/N. “Good job, hadn’t seen somethin’ like that in a while myself.”

Y/N’s lips curled up in a confident, yet thankful smile, nodding at the man to then eye the money for a second. 

“Uhm…” Sam weighed the toy bunny in his hands, gnawing at his lower lip at the feeling that it wasn’t much of a worthy gift anymore. 

She cleared her throat, catching his attention, then pointed towards their left. 

There was a crowded area there, and through the few gapes between the multitude of people one could catch a glance of the ice rink that stood there. Adults, teens and children alike were ice skating. There was a neon sign that revealed the tickets were ten dollars each. 

Nathan sucked in a breath of excitement at the sight of it, eyes shimmering as he looked up at them now. 

“Oh! Can we go? Can we go ice skating? Please?” 

Sam could see the air leaving his little brother’s mouth in quick, agitated breaths, his cheeks pinking with the cold. 

“Well…” He traded a look with Y/N, and the girl nodded, handing him the money. “I believe we can, Nathan.” 

As he retrieved the dollar bills, her free hand grabbed a hold of the soft little bunny in exchange. He watched her hold it against her chest for a second, earning him that evening’s first smile from her. And albeit being faint, it acted like a brief soothing balm for his heart.

They queued for an inordinate amount of time due to the volume of people waiting their turn, but eventually the three of them were wearing their ice skates and entering the ice rink. The temperature was noticeably colder there.

Another thing Sam noticed as soon as he set food on the ice’s frosty surface, was that his balance had completely vanished. 

His right foot slipped and he grabbed onto the metallic fence that surrounded the ice rink for dear life, eyes wide open in surprise. 

“Well-…fuck.” He cursed under his breath, watching Y/N glide gracefully, holding Nathan’s hands to help him skate with her. 

The metal felt freezing cold underneath his hands, and his fingers were going numb. Regardless, the sight of the other two kept his mind mildly numb to the fact. She looked so lovely, gliding around, her hair bun bouncing lightly with every move. The smile on her face was radiant, bringing up the faint dimples on her rosy cheeks. He could almost see every light in Winterland shining in his brother’s eyes, too. They were open with a glimmer of glee. It wasn’t often that he got to see him this joyful. 

She made Nathan happy. And in turn, she made _him_ happy.

He was still holding onto a fence in the middle of a giant, frozen surface, however. Surely not his most graceful moment. 

Struggling to retain his balance, Sam barely noticed the way Nathan and Y/N had stopped skating now, and his brother was saying something to her, gesturing towards him with his head. 

Y/N let go of Nathan’s hands, slowly, as if testing that he could stay on his feet and move around on his own. He could manage, and so she made her way towards Sam now, the blades on her ice skates grazing the ice with a coarse sound. 

She came to a halt just beside him, laying a hand gently on the fence while offering him the other one. Sam looked up at her with a smile and a hint of chagrin. There was no way on earth he could make this situation look less mortifying. 

“Thanks.” He said, simply yet honestly, and grabbed the girl’s hand. Then the other. And she pulled him away from the fence slowly, with her skating backwards now.

“W-whoa…careful now.” He requested, visibly uneasy, but she nodded with calm. 

Her hands felt warm only because his own were gelid. While he felt more capable of moving around now, his legs were still considerably wobbly, and he spent most of the time looking down and worrying he’d slip and fall. 

She tugged at him, making his eyes lock on hers, and smiled softly with a tinge of reassurance. Her expression conveyed that he needed to relax, and he’d do better. 

And so he tried. Keeping his eyes on her did make the task less daunting, and he eventually found himself gliding around with relative ease as long as he’d hold onto her hands. There was an icy glow surrounding her, and it made her look like something out of a fairy tale. The fluttering of her eyelashes was thoroughly mesmerizing.

In fact, too mesmerizing. His mind was so captivated he ended up stepping the wrong way, and his foot slipped, making him fall backwards. The problem being, he never let go of Y/N, and so she was pulled down with him. 

Sam landed on his back rather abruptly, wincing as he hit the ice with his back, cold and hard. And a second later, the girl fell right on top of him, making his breathing hitch as she landed on his chest. 

“Ugh- For chrissakes…“ He grumbled between clenched teeth, gazing down to look at Y/N, who was now pulling herself up slightly, a hand pressed flat against his chest and the other on the icy surface beneath them. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.” He promptly apologized, eyes darting hurriedly towards her to check that she wasn’t hurt. 

But she was laughing, the giggles making her cheeks flush harder. 

He almost felt every fiber in his body relax in relief, and he couldn’t help but to laugh as well, even if the look in his eyes was apologetic.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what-…I just suck at this.” 

Sam’s laugh grew a bit more mirthful when he felt her eyes land on him with an amused look, nodding at his statement as if she had no arguments to deny it. 

“I’d offer you a hand gettin’ up but I think you’re gonna have to do that for me…otherwise I might just make you fall again.” 

She did just so, getting back on her feet to brush the frost off her clothes, and then help him up as well. 

They didn’t have that much time left all the same, and Sam spent the remainder leaning against the metallic fence and watching Nathan and Y/N skate around merrily, with no lack of delight himself. 

Perhaps and only perhaps, she did not hate him all that much anymore. Or maybe she was simply too good a person to let it manifest fully. He hoped for the former. 

After their time at the ice rink, they made a quick stop at a little makeshift dining all they seemed to have build in the very center of the fair. There were long tables and benches, made of dark wood, and a big, circular bonfire in the center of it all, contained inside what Sam could only describe as a “massive metallic bowl”. All of it sheltered inside a wooden structure, resembling a shack. 

The warmth inside was inviting, and they all bought cups of hot cocoa before sitting down to chat, drink and enjoy the cozy winter vibe of the place. 

More than once Sam looked for Y/N’s eyes as they all talked, finding that she’d hold his gaze without much remorse now. Looking for the stabbing cold in her eyes, but finding only a twinge now. And his heart felt slightly less heavy. 

They talked about Halloween, that would soon arrive, and Christmas afterwards. They talked about how Sam and Y/N stole a slurpee van, and how offended Nathan felt that they never told him about this until then. They inevitably talked about how bad Sam was at ice skating, now that the fact had been discovered. 

Then they counted the money they had left, and tried to decide which activity to do next. One they could afford. 

Nathan had spotted a bunch of reindeer going around the Fair. Kids could pay to ride them around, and he seemed pretty excited to try. However it was, in Sam’s opinion, outrageously expensive. But since Nathan seemed to be dying for it, he gave in and offered him the money for a ticket. 

Since they could not afford three, Y/N and him would have to find something else to do. 

Finding that ‘something else’ proved easy. As soon as she set eyes on the ferris wheel that towered above everything else on the fair, she was completely fascinated. 

“Alright Nathan…” Sam handed Nathan the money for his ticket, and placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. “Come back as soon as you’re done with the ride, okay? Wait for us at the entrance to the ferris wheel.”

“Sure, okay. See you in a while!” 

Nathan was bouncy on his feet, rushing away so quickly that Sam wasn’t sure he’d heard him at all.

“Nathan? Nath-…oh forget it.” Waving him away with a defeated laugh,  he turned towards the girl, now waiting for him a few feet away. She gestured calmly with her head, towards the ferris wheel, and Sam followed suit. 

Glad that they didn’t have to wait in line for as long as they did previously, they were finally guided towards one of the cabins, and just as the door was closed after them, the wheel started moving. 

Y/N picked her spot, and Sam sat cautiously in front of her. Despite everything, he was convinced she wouldn’t want him sitting right next to her. 

The cabin was pretty small, so much so that his knees almost touched the girl’s. This could’ve also been due to him having long legs. Or both. but the window on their right was pretty big, offering a delightful view of most of Boston. 

He watched her lean closer to the glass, a captivated smile gracing her lips while she scoured the city with big, bright eyes. 

He watched her painfully. Knowing that he’d hurt a person he held so dear it would’ve hurt less to harm himself instead.

He watched her with regret so deep, he felt his heart sink so low, even though they were now suspended so high above ground. Barely noticing his own smile had been wiped out entirely. 

He watched her with shame. For wanting her, yet not deserving her, and still managing to hurt her all the same. 

He watched her long enough that his heart bled, and his fingers went numb, and his brain drowned in anguish, and fear crawled up his spine knowing that he could have lost her.

That he could still lose her. 

Sam let out a shuddering breath, not realizing it was tinted with her name, and so her eyes turned towards him now. His hands were shaking, and he laced his own fingers to mitigate the effect. 

“Y/N…” He repeated, knowingly this time. 

She moved away from the window, slowly. Her stare felt lightweight. As if she wished not to linger on him. It was a dreadful feeling. 

“I…” He was speaking softer than needed simply because he knew that, were he to attempt to speak louder, his voice would crack. “I know I’ve…messed up.” 

Sam cleared his throat, finding it hard to talk. Her expression could mean anything. It was fully impassive. It made him nervous to the point of nausea. 

“But I need you to listen to me. Just-… _Please_ listen to me. Please.”

He was begging. Not only his words were begging. So were his eyes. So were his heart and soul. He was begging for her to give him a minute of her time, knowing it was more than he deserved. 

And she obliged. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered twice, her glare firmly locked in his eyes. Listening intently. 

“Thank you…” Sam whispered, albeit shaken by the realization that whichever words he chose next, might determine if she’d stay…

Or go. 

“I know that I-” Sam swallowed, and his words felt like poison traveling down his throat, searing his stomach. Because they were true. “That I was an idiot. I acted like a complete scumbag and most of the time…most of the time I didn’t even notice.”

“I should never have taken you to that place, because I knew, deep down, from the beginning, that it wasn’t for you. Or me. But I did because it’s ‘cool’.”

Sam rolled his eyes at himself, feeling them sting with pooling tears. He took a long, irregular breath, and looked back at her. 

“I wanted for you to like me so bad… But felt like I had nothing to offer you by being just-” 

_Myself._

He went silent, and she crossed her legs, fidgeting with her own fingers. 

“I know I don’t deserve you.” 

A painful confession.

Y/N drew a breath and held it in her lungs for a moment longer than usual. 

“But I can’t help that it feels fucking _horrible_ to know that I’ve hurt you. That you might hate me. This week has been a nightmare. I can’t tell you _how_ I wanted to say I’m sorry. Every minute of every day, I just-”

Sam reached for her hands and when their fingertips met, her eyes glared down and he pulled away as if his touch was going to kill her. He shut his eyes for a moment, feeling the tears dampening his lashes, yet not falling, and tried to calm down the hammering of his heart against his chest.

“Sorry.” He muttered, eyelids opening slowly again. Their eyes met then, and he felt his bottom lip quiver for a second. She was just sitting there, being everything he ever wanted. And he was doing an astonishing job at spoiling it all. “It’s been hell without you, Y/N.”

Silence. 

The city lights poured from the window, washing over the girl and illuminating a thoroughly pained expression in her eyes. 

For some reason, Benny’s voice echoed in Sam’s mind now. Just one word. 

_‘Beg’_

Pushing himself off his seat, Sam bent his knees and knelt right before her, never touching her. Just kneeling. Praying. Begging eyes staring up at her now. 

“I promise you, right now, that I’ll never do anything like that again.”

His fingers burned, pleading to take her hands, seeking the familiar comfort they brought. 

“So please, please… I know I don’t deserve it. But I want you. I-…” 

Sam’s voice got lost in his throat, and the girl reached out to take his hands, a faint yet gentle touch, holding them on her lap. 

“I _want_ you. I _need_ you to forgive me.”

“Shhh…” 

His eyes flickered at the soothing, hushing sound that escaped from the girl’s mouth. Y/N pressed her fingertips gingerly against his lips, and when he was silenced, her hand moved calmly to cup his cheek. 

Her face lit up. A smile so sweet it made Sam feel like he’d melt at her feet right then and there. Her eyes were tender, and gentle. Forgiving. 

“Y/N…” Sam whispered, the healing balm of her touch being almost dazing. He was lost in her eyes. Taken. Undone. She leaned closer to hear him better, and he murmured, softer. “Can I kiss you?…”

His last word collided against her lips, when she leaned in to press them against his before he’d even finished asking. Her kiss felt like _heaven_. Mending the wounds in his heart, one by one. It felt like he’d been drowning this whole time, and she’d just pulled him out of the water. 

Sam sighed, long and slow, his fear appeased and comforted. His hand tightened around the girl’s, as if supplicating silently for her to stay. 

Stay. 

Never leave. 

And this time, the way their lips met felt different. Heavy, and meaningful. There was no rush, and no mindlessness. It was deliberate, careful, sincere. And scarily intense in its gentleness. 

When Sam felt her lips abandon his, it almost hurt. And he knew he’d never want to kiss anyone else, ever again. 

When he opened his eyes and her image appeared before him again, he knew he’d never want to look into another pair of eyes. Never want to feel a different touch. Never want the scent of a different hair. 

And the words danced around his tongue. _The words_ he now knew he needed to say, but had been true for a long time. Burning on his lips. Weighting on his chest. 

“Y/N…”  The girl was so close he needn’t but whisper. “ **I** -…”

The door on their left opened up, and the lights from the fair made their way inside the little cabin. The owner of the ferris wheel stood outside, holding it open for them, waiting for them to walk out. 

Y/N’s smile grew momentarily wider, before she pulled on Sam’s hand to walk out in the open with him once more.

The smell of sweets that lingered in the air surrounded them again as they walked down towards the exit, and Sam internally cursed the interruption he’d suffered. But yet he was unable to stop smiling. 

Standing a bit further away was Nathan, arms folded and looking around with interest. As soon as he spotted them, he waved his hand at Sam, and noticed then that he was walking next to Y/N, hands held. 

He watched his little brother gaze at their locked hands, and then exchange a look with him. 

He smiled, knowingly. 

And Sam smiled back.  


End file.
